^L. 


UNIFORM  WITH  THIS  VOLUME. 


IF,    YES,    AND    PERHAPS 

FOUR  POSSIBILITIES  AND  SIX  EXAGGERATIONS, 
WITH  SOME  BITS  OF  FACT. 

BY    EDWARD    E.    HALE. 

i  vol.     i6mo.     $  1.50. 


,    OSGrOOD,    <fe    CO.,    Publishers. 


THE 


INGHAM    PAPERS: 


SOME  MEMORIALS  OF  THE  LIFE  OF 


CAPT.  FREDERIC  INGHAM,  U.S.N., 


PASTOR  OF  THE  FIRST  SANDEMANIAN   CHURCH  IN  NAGUADAVICK, 

AND    MAJOR-GENERAL    BY    BREVET    IN    THE 

'PATRIOT  SERVICE  IN   ITALY. 


BY   EDWARD    E.    HALE, 

AUTHOR   OF   "IF,   VES,   AND   PERHAPS." 


BOSTON: 
FIELDS,    OSGOOD,    &    CO., 

SUCCESSORS   TO  TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS. 
i860. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

FIELDS,     OSGOOD,     &    CO., 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  :  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 

CAMBRIDGE. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 
MEMOIR  OF  CAPTAIN  FREDERIC  INGHAM        .        .        .        .    vii 


THE  GOOD-NATURED  PENDULUM 1 

PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL 20 

ROUND  THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK 51 

FRIENDS'  MEETING 

DlD    HE    TAKE    THE   PRINCE    TO    RlDE  ? 104 

How  MR.  FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT     .        .        .  135 

THE  BAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG- WOMAN 172 

DINNER  SPEAKING 211 

GOOD  SOCIETY 223 

DAILY  BREAD                               234 


416694 


MEMOIR 

OF 

CAPTAIN    FREDERIC    INGHAM. 


IT  is  always  difficult  to  write  the  biography  of  the 
living.  It  is  more  difficult  to  write  the  biography  of  a 
friend.  In  attempting  to  put  on  paper  a  few  memo 
randa  of  Captain  Frederic  Ingham's  life,  I  am  hampered 
by  both  difficulties.  We  have  lived  on  the  most  inti 
mate  terms.  I  have  shared  his  thoughts,  his  purse, 
his  confidence.  I  have  slept  under  the  same  blanket 
with  him  ;  have  bivouacked  on  the  same  mountain-top 
with  him ;  have  shared  in  the  same  adventure.  Yet 
he  never  told  me  in  set  form  the  order  of  his  life  ; 
nor  do  I  know,  from  any  memoranda  of  his,  what  he 
would  wish  me  to  put  down,  and  what  he  would  wish 
to  have  omitted. 

He  is  now  absent  in  Siberia,  in  connection  with 
the  telegraph  enterprise,  which  is  alluded  to  in  this 
volume.  His  wife  is  visiting  in  Bohemia,  on  some 
estates  of  a  friend  of  theirs.  I  am  sometimes  led  to 
think  that  there  is  Bohemian  blood  in  both  of  them. 
Meanwhile,  I  am  left  with  a  general  direction  to  pre- 


Vlll  MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FEEDEEIC  INGHAM. 

pare  these  papers  for  the  press,  and  a  general  permis 
sion  to  state  what  is  necessary  in  the  way  of  biogra 
phy,  with  a  hint  that  Colonel  Ingham  has  himself  on 
the  stocks  an  "  autobiography,"  which,  if  it  is  ever 
finished,  and  the  public  ever  want  it,  the  public  will 
probably  have. 

The  intimate    relations    of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ingham 

t5 

with  Mr.  George  Hackmatack  and  Mrs.  Julia  Hack 
matack,  with  Mr.  George  Haliburton  and  Mrs.  Anna 
Haliburton,  with  Mr.  Felix  Carter  and  Mrs.  Fausta 
Carter,  —  relations  which  are  alluded  to  in  all  parts  of 
his  papers,  —  have  not  so  often  relieved  the  difficulties 
of  his  biographer  as  might  have  been  hoped.  It  is 
true  that,  when  in  Boston,  these  amiable  persons  spend 
much  time  together.  It  is  also  true  that  most  of  the 
gentlemen  are  great  talkers,  fond  of  recalling  the  inci 
dents  of  their  lives,  which  they  narrate  at  very  consid 
erable  length,  not  careful  whether  the  listeners  have 
or  have  not  heard  them  mentioned  before.  It  is  also 
true  that  the  ladies  are  quite  good  listeners,  and  but 
seldom  cut  short  their  historical  or  biographical  narra 
tions.  But,  almost  always,  when  I  recur  to  the  gen 
tlemen  of  this  little  coterie  for  detail  as  to  Ing-ham's 

o 

life,  I  find  they  have  paid  but  little  attention  to  his 
narratives,  except  as  they  opened  the  way  to  their 
own  ;  and  the  ladies,  if  I  recur  to  them,  show  an  in 
difference  to  dates,  to  synchronisms,  and  to  succession 
of  event,  which,  to  the  historian,  is  appalling.  They 
have  a  habit,  when  they  commit  to  writing  any  of 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FREDERIC   INGHAM.  IX 

these  memoirs,  of  using  Towndrow's  first  system  of 
shorthand,  —  a  stenography  easily  written  and  read. 
But,  unfortunately,  they  all  learned  it  of  each  other  in 
their  boyhood  ;  so  that,  of  a  given  memoir  of  any  past 
time,  it  is  impossible  to  tell  from  the  handwriting 
which  of  the  four  jotted  it  down,  and  even  the  facts 
stated  in  the  first  person  cannot  be  verified  without 
repeated  reference  to  personal  authorities. 

Yet  another  source  of  confusion  arises  from  the 
fact  that  there  are  two  Frederic  Inghams,  so  closely 
connected  with  each  other  at  one  time,  and  indeed  so 
strongly  resembling  each  other  personally,  that  they 
are  often  mistaken  for  each  other,  even  by  intimate 
friends.  An  inadvertence  on  the  part  of  one  of  these 
gentlemen,  at  a  public  meeting  in  Naguadavick,  threw 
the  other,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ingham  (whom  I  have  al 
ready  spoken  of  as  the  Captain  and  the  Colonel)  out 
of  the  station  which  he  then  filled  in  the  ministry  in 
that  town.  You  are  never  certain,  therefore,  whether 
a  given  narration  of  Mr.  Frederic  Ingham's  goings 
and  comings  belongs  to  the  clergyman,  or  to  the  fel 
low-citizen  who  acted  as  his  double,  unless  you  can  get 
the  testimony  of  one  of  them  or  the  other. 

Subject  to  the  drawbacks  at  which  I  have  thus 
hinted,  the  following  sketch  of  Mr.  Ingham's  life  is 
offered,  as  a  skeleton,  on  which  may  be  hung  the  dis 
joined  members  found  in  these  pages,  and  in  a  similar 
volume  published  last  year  by  Messrs.  Fields,  Osgood, 
and  Company,  under  the  title  "  If,  Yes,  and  Perhaps." 


X  MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FREDERIC  INGHAM. 

FREDERIC  INGHAM,  first  spoken  of  above,  from 
whose  voluminous  papers  the  sketches  in  this  volume 
are  taken,  is  the  oldest  son  of  Benoni  and  Blanche 
Ingham,  of  South  Warwick,  Connecticut,  being  born, 
if  I  understand  rightly,  in  the  district  known  as  the 
"  New  Society  "  in  that  town.  He  descended  on  the 
father's  side,  as  he  himself  at  one  period  supposed, 
from  Samuel  Ingham,  of  Saybrook,  probably  the  son 
of  John  or  Joseph  Ingham  of  the  same  town,  who  was 
admitted  freeman,  or  who  was  free,  in  1669.  But, 
among  the  Ingham  papers  which  I  have  not  published, 
I  find  a  careful  genealogical  tree  in  Colonel  Ingham's 
own  handwriting,  in  which  his  descent  or  ascent  is  car 
ried  out,  apparently  with  some  questioning,  to  Thomas 
Ingham,  born  in  Scituate,  Mass.,  in  1654.  It  is  clear 
that,  although  every  man  has  four  great-grandfathers, 
both  these  theories  cannot  be  true,  and  I  am  not  able 
to  decide  between  them.  I  leave  them  to  the  study 
of  the  curious,  in  particular  to  those  who  share  the 
curiosity  of  the  late  Dr.  Moses  Harris,  on  transmitted 
qualities.  For,  if  our  Colonel,  as  I  may  call  him,  be 
descended  from  the  Inghams  of  Scituate,  he  is  de 
scended  from  the  only  woman  who  was  ever  tried  as  a 
witch  in  the  colony  of  Plymouth.  The  trial  is  inter 
esting,  because  her  husband  was  suspected  of  being  a 
witch  or  wizard  also.  But,  happily  for  posterity,  they 
were  both  acquitted.  The  Inghams  of  Scituate,  as  I 
learn  from  Mr.  Savage,  came  perhaps  from  Norfolk, 
in  England,  where  Thomas  Ingham  the  younger  was 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FREDERIC  INGHAM.  xi 

buried,  in  the  church  of  St.  Somebody,  in  the  year 
1451,  as  was  Sir  Oliver  Ingham,  in  1292,  which  was 
in  the  reign  of  Edward  the  First.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ingham  were  descended  from 

O 

Samuel  of  Saybrook,  who  was  probably  the  son  of 
John  or  Joseph,  of  the  same  town,  it  is  to  be  observed 
that,  in  the  earlier  generations,  the  name  was  spelt 
beginning  with  the  letter  H.  This  fact  indicates  a 
geographical  proximity  to  the  Scituate  family.  I 
ought  to  mention,  in  this  connection,  that  Ingham,  in 
England,  is  a  parish  on  the  east  coast  of  Norfolk,  in 
the  hundred  of  Happing. 

Colonel  Ingham's  mother  was  the  daughter  of  Capt. 
Heddardand  Octavia  Goad,  of  the  "  Farms,"  in  Pater- 
son,  Connecticut.  She  was  a  reticent  person,  seldom' 
speaking  unless  she  was  spoken  to  ;  and  I  have  ascribed 
to  her  influence,  or  to  the  inherited  graces  derived 
from  her,  the  taciturnity  so  apparent  in  the  memoirs 
and  in  the  personal  demeanor  of  our  friend. 

He  was  himself  the  seventh  of  fourteen  children, 
all,  but  the  youngest,  boys.  They  grew  up  together 
on  a  large  grazing  farm,  with  the  admirable  opportuni 
ties  for  the  best  self-culture  which  such  an  institution 
gives,  —  themselves,  indeed,  turned  out  to  grass.  And 
a  certain  indifference  which  Colonel  Ingham  shows 
from  day  to  day,  as  to  the  particular  duty  to  which 
he  shall  put  his  hand,  is  perhaps  the  result  of  the  some 
what  miscellaneous  or  jack-at-all-trades  life,  which  a 
boy  on  a  large  farm  like  that  almost  of  necessity  pur- 


xii  MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC  INGHAM. 

sues.  He  was  fond  of  books,  and  had  the  oppor 
tunity  in  boyhood  to  improve  his  mind  by  the  careful 
study  of  Mackenzie's  Receipts,  of  Marshall's  Life  of 
Washington,  of  the  Virginia  Housewife,  and  of  the 
few  volumes  then  published  of  the  reprint  of  Rees's 
Cyclopaedia.  He  is  used  to  say  that  he  is  much  better 
able  to  sustain  conversation  on  such  subjects  as  the 
Amazon,  on  Botany,  or  on  Cryptography,  than  he  is 
on  the  Zendavesta,  on  Yucatan,  or  on  Xerxes ;  his 
early  winter  studies  having  given  him  a  proficiency 
and  accuracy  regarding  the  beginning  of  the  alphabet, 
which  no  subsequent  opportunities  have  made  good  as 
to  the  end. 

I  see,  however,  that  I  am  somewhat  in  advance  of 
my  subject.  Captain  Ingham,  as  his  friends,  perhaps, 
prefer  to  call  him,  was  born  on  the  1st  of  April,  a 
day  which  has  been  marked  quite  curiously  in  the 
course  of  his  after  life,  in  the  year  1812.  He  spent 
the  first  eleven  years  of  his  life  in  the  miscellaneous 
training  which  I  have  described,  which  to  this  hour  he 
regards  as  the  best  foundation  for  any  man's  educa 
tion  ;  an  opinion  in  which  I  have  been  led  to  agree, 
so  far  as  I  have  been  taught  by  my  own  observation. 
This  boy,  at  all  events,  developed  a  physical  constitu 
tion  wellnigh  perfect,  —  very  quick  habits  of  obser 
vation  and  memory,  very  simple  personal  tastes,  and 
the  capacity  of  enjoyment  of  simple  pleasures,  together 
with  the  warmest  affections,  which  have  bound  him  in 
the  closest  ties  to  his  brothers  and  his  sister,  and  given 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FREDERIC  INGHAM.  Xlll 

him  liis  life-Ions:  attachment  to  his  home.     Thirteen 

o 

weeks'  schooling  in  winter  and  eight  in  summer,  with 
the  miscellaneous  reading  which  I  have  described, 
seem  to  have  advanced  the  boy  in  the  first  eleven 
years  of  his  life,  as  far  as  I  now  observe  those  model 
pupils  of  his  age  have  come,  who  have  attended  the 
model  grammar  schools,  and  whose  faces  are  pic 
tured  and  whose  biographies  are  related  in  the  picto 
rial  journals  of  the  day.  It  was  at  the  age  of  eleven 
or  twelve  that  he  was  sent  to  the  family  school  kept 
by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Whipple,  whom  he  affectionately 
calls  Parson  Whipple  in  the  first  of  the  papers  pub 
lished  in  this  volume.  He  remained  at  this  school, 
with  the  intention  of  entering  Yale  College,  for  three 
or  four  years,  when  his  plans  in  life  were  wholly 
changed  by  his  unexpectedly  receiving,  one  morning, 
from  his  mother's  uncle,  the  honorable  Eli  Goad, 
who  then  represented  the  Eleventh  Congressional  Dis 
trict  of  Connecticut  in  Congress,  an  appointment  as 
midshipman  in  the  service  of  the  United  States.  It 
subsequently  proved  that  the  friends  of  Mr.  Goad  had 
been  making  such  interest  as  they  could,  with  the 
administration,  to  secure  that  gentleman's  appoint 
ment  to  the  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court.  These 
overtures  were  not  successful,  but  they  were  courte 
ously  notified  that  the  government,  though  not  able 
to  confer  this  honor  upon  him,  would  gladly  name  any 
person  as  midshipman  whom  he  would  recommend. 
Mr.  Goad  accordingly  named  young  Ingham,  and  to  his 


XIV  MEMOIR  OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC   INGHAM. 

surprise,  therefore,  lie  was  informed  that  he  was  ap 
pointed  midshipman,  and  that  he  was  to  report  imme 
diately  on  board  the  Razee  President,  then  fitting  out 
in  New  York  for  the  Mediterranean  station.  As  I 
have  already  intimated,  it  is  a  peculiarity,  perhaps  a 
weakness,  of  Mr.  Ingham's  character  that  he  had  as 
lief  do  one  thing  as  another,  if  each  require  positive 
effort  and  a  good  hardy  bending  of  every  faculty  to 
the  result  to  be  obtained.  I  have  heard  him  say  that 
he  was  never  more  staggered  than  he  was  by  Mr. 
Emerson's  direction  that  men  should  buy  books  in 
the  line  of  their  genius.  Poor  Ingham  was  painfully 
conscious  that  he  had  no  peculiar  genius  for  one 
duty  rather  than  another.  If  it  were  his  duty  to 
write  verses,  he  wrote  verses ;  to  lay  telegraph,  he 
laid  telegraph  ;  to  fight  slavers,  he  fought  slavers ;  to 
preach  sermons,  he  preached  sermons.  And  he  did 
one  of  these  things  with  just  as  much  alacrity  as  the 
other ;  the  moral  purpose  entirely  controlling  such 
mental  aptness  or  physical  habits  as  he  could  bring  to 
bear.  This  catholicity  of  disposition  took  him  into 
the  navy  at  a  day's  warning.  His  maternal  grand 
father  had  served  in  the  navy  of  England. 

His  naval  experiences,  both  as  a  midshipman  and 
afterwards  as  a  lieutenant  acting  as  captain,  are  con 
stantly  alluded  to  in  the  sketches  which  have  passed 
under  the  eye  of  the  public.  But  after  several  years 
of  varied  service,  when  he  was,  at  last,  a  past  midship 
man  waiting  promotion,  he  was  satisfied  that  advance 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC   INGHAM.  XV 

was  so  slow  in  the  navy,  in  those  days  of  peace,  that 
he  resigned  his  commission  and  resumed  his  plan  of 
entering  college. 

I  do  not  think  Colonel  Ingham  ever  regretted  this 
determination.  It  was,  however,  made  in  face  of 
the  general  opinion  of  practical  men,  and  has  resulted 
in  a  certain  duality  of  his  life,  which  sometimes  makes 
him  seem  like  a  man  riding  two  horses.  I  have  found 
that  readers  of  his  papers  are  sometimes  confused  by 
finding  the  clergyman,  who  is  addressing  a  congre 
gation,  illustrating  his  sermon  from  experiences  he  has 
gained  in  laying  telegraph  wire  in  Nebraska,  or  in 
cruising  to  and  fro  in  the  South  Atlantic.  For  my 
own  part,  I  think  the  sermons  are  better  for  such  illus 
trations.  I  know,  however,  that  the  mere  difference 
of  age  made  Ingham's  school  and  college  life  very 
different  from  that  of  the  boys  who  were  around  him. 
According  to  his  dates,  he  must  have  been  in  the  Bos 
ton  Latin  School  and  in  Harvard  College  at  the  same 
time  that  I  was.  I  find  it  difficult,  however,  to  recall 
his  personal  appearance  then.  I  remember  very  well 
several  of  the  big  boys,  as  we  called  them,  or  the 
really  manly  men  who  attacked  study  in  a  way  quite 
different  from  ours ;  but  at  that  time  I  had  not  any 
acquaintance  with  him,  and  I  do  not  associate  any  of 
them  with  his  name.  He  says  he  was  chosen  into  the 
Phi  Beta  Kappa  in  1837,  but  I  do  not  find  his  name 
on  the  catalogue  of  that  society.  He  never  took  his 
Bachelor's  degree,  and  he  is  not,  therefore,  entered  on 
the  Triennial  Catalogue  of  the  college. 


XVI  MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC  INGHAM. 

I  think  that  he  was  induced  by  pecuniary  considera 
tion  to  re-enter  the  navy,  but  I  do  not  know  ;  and  I 
am  sure  he  has  never  told  me  by  what  means  his  second 
commission  was  given  him.  The  Exploring  Expedi 
tion  was  fitted  out  about  that  time,  but  I  never  heard 
that  he  ever  accepted  a  place  in  it.  Nor  do  I  know 
whether  he  intended  at  this  time  to  make  the  navy 
his  career,  or  whether  the  predilections  which  after 
wards  drew  him  into  the  Sandemanian  ministry  were 
not  already  substantially  formed. 

Many  allusions  will  be  found  in  his  papers  to  his 
second  career  in  the  navy.  All  the  officers  whom  I 
have  ever  known,  who  were  acquainted  with  him, 
speak  of  him  affectionately,  and  agree  in  testifying  to 
his  willingness  to  carry  out  any  duty  that  was  assigned 
to  him,  to  a  certain  warm-heartedness  which  made  him 
a  general  favorite  among  them,  and  to  the  curious  in 
difference,  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  as  to  the 
nature  or  field  of  the  particular  duty  to  which  he  was 
assigned.  But,  after  several  years  spent  in  such  ser 
vice,  he  satisfied  himself  that  the  Christian  ministry 
opened  to  him  a  wider  field  for  energy  and  activity, 
and  he  again  withdrew  from  active  service  in  the 
navy,  that  he  might  enter  the  ministry  of  the  Sande 
manian  Church. 

I  have  been  somewhat  surprised,  and  indeed  an 
noyed  to  find  how  many  intelligent  persons,  who, 
probably,  share  themselves  in  the  principles  of  Robert 
Sandeman,  are,  nevertheless,  ignorant  of  the  very  exist- 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC   INGHAM.          XVll 

ence  of  the  Sandemanian  communion.  This  is  no 
place  for  the  discussion  of  those  principles.  It  is 
enough  to  say  here  that  John  Glass,  the  founder  of 
this  body,  was  expelled  from  the  Established  Church 
of  Scotland  "  for  maintaining  that  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  was  net  of  this  world,"  —  a  declaration  for  which 
he  certainly  had  the  highest  authority.  His  followers, 
the  Glassites,  were  subsequently  called  Sandemanians, 
from  Robert  Sandeman,  his  son-in-law.  In  the  last 
century,  this  distinguished  preacher  was  charged  with 
giving  intellect  too  high  a  place  in  the  operations  of 
faith,  —  a  charge  which,  to  the  present  generation, 
does  not  seem  as  heinous  as  it  seemed  then. 

Mr.  Ingham  was  soon  settled  in  the  ministry,  having 
received  a  unanimous  call  from  one  of  the  Sandema 
nian  churches  in  Naguadavick.  His  ministry  was  one 
of  great  usefulness  in  this  flourishing  town.  By  a 
misunderstanding,  one  evening,  which  has  been  already 
alluded  to,  of  the  relations  between  him  and  his  name 
sake,  Mr.  Frederic  Ingham,  who  at  that  time  hewed 
his  wood  and  pumped  his  water,  our  friend  was  com 
pelled  to  shake  the  dust  from  his  feet  the  next  morn 
ing,  and  took  the  parsonage  lot  of  No.  9,  in  the  3d  range, 
with  his  wife  and  his  daughter  Paulina.  He  occupied 
himself  there  in  literary  pursuits.  He  also  eventually 
succeeded  in  developing  the  immense  water-power  of 
that  region  for  the  trial  of  the  great  experiment  of  the 
Brick  Moon,  and,  long  after  his  permanent  residence 
there  was  broken  up,  he  used  to  return  there  for  the 


XVlll        MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FKEDEKIC  INGHAM. 

purpose  of  watching  the  great  enterprise  thus  under 
taken.  While  this  was  the  residence  of  his  family,  he 
made  many  excursions  westward  in  the  employment 
of  government  or  of  the  different  telegraph  compa 
nies,  as  he  had  indeed  done  previously,  in  different  in 
tervals  of  his  naval  and  his  ministerial  experience. 

It  was  in  one  of  his  absences  from  Maine  that  he 
took  the  temporary  charge  of  a  chapel  in  this  city. 
He  subsequently  removed  his  family  hither.  He 
volunteered  into  Garibaldi's  service  in  the  course  of  a 
short  vacation  in  Europe.  He  has  himself  explained 
the  circumstances  of  his  curious  cruise  in  the  Florida. 
His  interest  in  the  development  of  the  telegraphic 
system  led  to  his  various  employments  in  Siberia,  on 
one  of  which  he  is  now  absent.  It  is  this  absence 
which  compels  me  to  substitute  this  inadequate,  and, 
I  fear,  incorrect  memoir,  for  the  careful  autobiography 
which  he  would  himself  have  furnished  so  gladly  for 
this  volume.  I  had  intended  to  add  to  it  some  study 
of  his  character;  but  if,  as  I  have  said,  it  be  difficult 
to  write  the  biography  of  a  friend,  how  much  more 
difficult  is  it  to  present  to  him  your  view  of  his  faults 
and  virtues  in  print,  without  giving  him  an  opportu 
nity  to  correct  the  proof-sheets. 

In  the  hope  of  obtaining  some  illustrative  detail  on 
the  subject,  I  addressed  a  line  to  the  other  Mr.  Ing- 
ham,  who  once  lived  in  Rev.  F.  Ingham's  family  at 
Naguadavick.  He  is  now  in  Boston,  fitting  himself, 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Provident  Association,  to 


MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN   FREDERIC   INGHAM.  XIX 

compete  for  the  office  of  talesman,  by  a  course  of 
instruction  conducted  at  the  theatre  meetings,  the  free 
concerts,  and  the  Lowell  Institute. 
I  received  the  following  reply  :  — 

BOSTON,  Friday  evening,  1869. 

DEAR  SIR  :  — 

I  was  born,  myself,  in  Kilbarron,  near  Ballyshan- 
non,  County  Donegal,  at  Easter,  now  fifty-five  or  sixty 
years  gone  by,  I  am  not  certain  which ;  and  I  think 
his  reverence,  who  never  told  me,  was  born  about  the 
same  time,  though  not  the  same  place.  We  crossed 
to  this  country,  —  I  do  not  mean  his  reverence,  but 
myself  and  family,  —  when  I  was  nine  years  old,  in  the 
good  ship  Harkaway,  from  Liverpool  for  New  York ; 
you  understand  I  was  not  then  married,  nor  had  I 
yet  met  his  reverence,  who  had  never  visited  Ireland, 
then  nor  since.  Nor  do  I  know  where  he  was  at  that 
time.  My  father  was  not  living,  and  I  went  to  work 
myself  on  my  own  account,  though  not  of  age.  My 
wife,  whom  I  afterwards  married,  had  no  voice  and 
did  not  hear  well,  —  indeed  she  did  not  hear  at  all, 
but  she  was  a  silent  partner.  We  got  a  position  in 
the  government  institution  at  Monson ;  and  I  re 
sided  there  till  I  entered  his  reverence's  service  at 
Naguadavick,  having  first  changed  my  name,  which 
was  before  that  time,  as  I  see  I  have  not  said,  Dennis 
Shea.  I  was  myself  chosen  to  the  legislature,  and 
was  at  one  time  a  director  of  the  Enlightenment 


XX  MEMOIR   OF   CAPTAIN  FEEDEEIC  INGHAM. 

Society.     His  reverence,  I  think,  was  still  about  my 
age,  which  must  then  have  been  between  thirty  and 

forty. 

You  have  known  him  better  since  he  went  into  the 
woods  than  I ;  so  no  more  at  present,  from 
Yours  to  command, 

F.  INGHAM. 

There  is  an  account  of  life  at  Naguadavick,  and 
another  of  the  city  of  Sybaris,  by  Mr.  Ingham,  which 
will  be  published  with  some  other  studies  of  city  life 

bv  him,  in  another  volume. 

E.  E.  H. 

BOSTON,  March  27,  1869. 


THE  GOOD-NATURED  PENDULUM. 


[THE  oldest  memorials  of  Mr.  Ingham's  life,  which  I  have  found, 
are  his  copy-books,  —  and  the  "  compositions,"  which  he  wrote  at 
Rev.  Mr.  Whipple's  "  Family  Boarding  School."  "  On  the  Fear 
of  appearing  Singular,"  »  On  the  Passion  of  Emulation,"  «  On 
the  Bridge  described  by  Caesar,"  —  such  are  the  subjects  of 
three  of  these  papers.  I  find  also  a  poetical  translation  of 
Ovid's  Palace  of  the  Gods,  and  another  of  Deucalion's  Flood,  for 
which  Master  Frederic  received  premiums.  I  do  not  print  any 
of  these,  for  fear  of  too  much  enlarging  the  volume.  The  copy 
books,  indeed,  are  somewhat  monotonous.  In  the  following  nar 
rative  some  little  account  is  given  of  the  manner  of  life  at  the 
school,  about  the  year  1826,  if  I  calculate  rightly.] 


AN  old  clock  which  stood  in  the  corner  of  Parson 
Whipple's  school-room  suddenly  began  to  tick  twice 
as  fast  as  usual.  It  did  so  for  two  or  four  hours, 
according  as  you  counted  time  by  its  beat  or  by  an 
hour-glass.  Then  it  ticked  for  the  remainder  of  its 
life  at  apparently  the  same  rate  as  usual.  /TEiT'was 
never  a  discontented  pendulum  ;  and  on  that  day, 
Singleton  and  I,  who  were  the  only  boys  in  its  coun 
sels,  thought  it  was  very  good-natured. 


2  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

But  1  do  not  pretend  it  was  right.  Have  I  said  it 
was  right  for  the  pendulum  to  tick  so  ?  I  have  not  said 
it.  I  have  only  said  that  it  was  good-natured  in  the 
pendulum  to  tick  twice  as  fast  as  usual,  when  it  simply 
knew  that  I  wished  it  to  do  so.  I  am  not  holding  up 
the  pendulum  as  an  example  for  other  pendulums,  or  for 
readers  of  the  Atlantic.  I  wish  people  would  not  be 
so  eager  in  their  lookout  for  morals.  I  have  not  even 
said  that  the  pendulum  is  the  hero  of  this  story.  I 
have  only  said  that  it  was  good-natured,  and  that,  as 
before,  it  ticked  as  I  then  said.  Having  simply  said 
that,  and  hardly  said  even  that,  I  am  attacked  with 
this  question,  whether  my  story  is  moral  or  not,  wheth 
er  the  pendulum  did  right  or  not ;  and  you  tell  me 
coolly  that  you  do  not  know  whether  you  will  take 
the  magazine  another  year,  if  the  conduct  of  such 
pendulums  is  approved  in  it.  Once  and  again,  then, 
alflibugh  I  was  then  responsible  for  what  the  pen 
dulum  did,  I  assert  that  I  am  not  now  responsible 
for  it.  I  was  then  fourteen,  and  am  now  hard  on 
fifty-six,  so  I  must  have  changed  atomically  six 
times  since  then.  I  reject  responsibility  for  all  my 
acts  at  Parson  Whipple's.  I  do  not  justify  the  pen 
dulum,  I  do  not  justify  myself,  far  less  do  I  justify 
Singleton.  I  only  say  it  was  a  good-natured  pen 
dulum. 
-  ft  happened  thus  :  — 

We  were  all  to  go  after  chestnuts,  and  we  had  made 
immense  preparation,  the  old  dominie  not  unwilling. 


T. 


THE   GOOD-NATURED   PENDULUM.  3 

We  had  sewed  up  into  many  bags  some  old  bed-tick 
dear,  kind  Miss  Tryphosa  had  given  us  ;  we  had  coaxed 
Clapp's  cousin  Perkins,  —  son  of  Matthew  Perkins 
third,  of  the  old  black  Perkins  blood,  —  we  had 
coaxed  him  into  getting  the  black  rnare  for  us  from  his 
father.  Clapp  was  to  harness  her,  and  we  were  to 
have  the  school  wagon  to  bring  our  spoils  home.  We 
had  laid  in  with  the  Varnum  boys  to  meet  us  at  the 
cross-roads  in  the  Hollow  ;  and,  in  short,  we  were  to 
give  the  trees  such  a  belaboring  as  chestnut-trees  had 
not  known  in  many  years.  For  all  this  we  had  the 
grant  of  a  half-holiday ;  we  had  by  great  luck  a 
capital  sharp  frost  on  Tuesday,  we  had  everything 
but  —  time. 

Red  Jacket  would  have  told  us  we  had  all  the  time 
there  was,  and,  if  Mr.  Emerson  had  come  along,  he 
might  have  enforced  the  lesson.  But  he  was  else- 

O 

where  just  then,  and  the  trouble  with  us  was,  that, 
having  all  the  time  there  was,  we  wanted  more.  And 
no  hard  bestead  conductor  on  a  single-track  road,  eager 
to  "  make  the  time,"  which  he  must  have  to  reach  the 
predestined  switch  in  season,  ever  questioned  and  en 
treated  his  engineer  more  volubly  than  we  assailed 
each  other  as  to  how  we  could  make  the  short  after 
noon  answer  for  the  gigantic  purposes  of  this  expedi 
tion.  You  see  there  is  a  compensation  in  all  things. 
If  you  have  ever  gone  after  chestnuts,  you  have  found 
out  that  the  sun  sets  mighty  near  five  o'clock  when 
you  come  to  the  20th  of  October ;  and  if  you  don't 


4  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

get  through  school  till  one,  and  then  must  all  have  din 
ner,  I  tell  you  it  is  very  hard  to  start  fourteen  boys  after 
dinner,  and  drive  the  wagon,  and  walk  the  boys  down 
to  the  Hollow,  and  then  meet  the  Varnums  and  drive 
up  that  rough  road  to  Clapp's  grandmother's,  and  then 
take  down  the  bars  and  lead  the  horse  in  through  the 
pasture  to  where  we  meant  to  tie  him  in  the  edge  of 
the  hemlock  second-growth,  and  then  to  carry  the 
bags  across  the  stream,  and  so  work  up  on  the  hill 
where  the  best  trees  are  ;  —  I  say  it  is  very  hard  to 
do  all  that  and  come  out  on  the  road  again  and  on  the 
way  home  before  dark.  And  if  you  think  it  is  easy 
to  do  it  in  three  hours  and  a  half,  I  wish  you  would 
try.  All  is,  I  will  not  give  sixteen  cents  for  all  the 
chestnuts  you  get  in  that  way. 

So,  as  I  said,  we  wanted  to  make  the  time.  Well, 
dear  Miss  Tryphosa  said  that  she  would  put  dinner  at 
twelve,  if  we  liked,  and  if  we  could  coax  the  dominie 
to  let  us  out  of  school  then.  So  we  asked  Hackma 
tack  to  ask  him,  and  Hackmatack  did  not  dare  to,  but 
he  coaxed  Sarah  Clavers  to  ask  him.  The  old  man 
loved  Sarah  Clavers,  as  everybody  did.  She  was  a 
sweet  little  thing,  and  she  did  her  best !  Old  man,  I 
call  him !  That  was  the  way  we  talked.  Let  me 
see,  he  graduated  in  1811,  —  I  guess  he  was  in  Ever 
ett's  class  and  Frothingham's.  The  "  old  man,"  as 
we  called  him,  must  have  been  thirty-seven  years  old 
then,  —  nineteen  years  younger  than  I  am  to-day. 
Old  man  indeed  ! 


THE   GOOD-NATUKED  PENDULUM.  5 

Well,  little  Sarah  did  her  prettiest.  But  the  old 
man  —  there  it  is  again  —  kissed  her  and  stroked  her 
face,  and  said  he  had  given  the  school  a  half-holiday, 
and  he  thought  his  duties  to  the  parents  forbade  his 
giving  any  more.  And  when  little  Sarah  tried  again, 
all  he  would  say  was,  that,  if  we  would  get  up  early 
and  be  dressed  when  the  first  bell  rang,  we  might 
"  go  in  "  to  school  at  eight  instead  of  nine.  Then 
school  could  be  done  at  twelve,  —  Miss  Tryphosa 
might  do  as  she  chose  about  dinner,  but,  if  she  chose, 
we  might  be  off  before  one.  This  was  something, 
and  we  made  the  most  of  it. 

Still  we  wished  we  could  make  a  little  more  time. 
And  as  it  was  ordered,  —  wisely,  I  have  no  doubt,  — 
though,  as  I  said,  I  do  not  pretend  to  justify  the  use 
we  made  of  the  order,  —  as  it  was  ordered,  —  that 
very  Tuesday  afternoon,  when  we  were  all  at  work  in 
the  school-room,  Brereton —  that  Southern  boy,  you 
know  —  was  reciting  in  u  Scientific  Dialogues  "  to  the 
Parson.  I  think  it  must  have  been  "  Scientific  Dia 
logues,"  but  I  am  not  sure.  Queer,  I  was  going  to 
say  it  was  Pynchon,  who  has  distinguished  himself  so 
about  all  those  things  since.  But  that  is  a  trick  mem- 

O 

ory  plays  you.  Pynchon  must  be  ten  years  younger 
than  Brereton  ;  I  dare  say  he  never  saw  him.  It  was 
Brereton  —  Bill  Brereton  —  was  reciting,  and  he  was 
reciting  about  the  pendulum.  The  old  man  told  him 
about  Galileo's  chandelier,  I  remember. 

Well,  then  and  there  I  saw  the  whole  thing  in  my 


6  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

mind  as  I  see  it  now.  Singleton  saw  it  too.  He  was 
hearing  some  little  boys  in  Liber  Primus,  but  he 
turned  round  gravely,  and  looked  me  full  in  the  face. 
I  looked  at  him  and  nodded.  Nor  from  that  day  to 
this  have  I  ever  had  to  discuss  the  details  of  the  mat 
ter  with  him.  Only  he  and  I  did  three  things  in  con 
sequence  of  that  stare  and  that  nod,  —  he  did  two 
and  I  did  one. 

What  he  did  was  to  go  into  the  dominie's  bedroom, 
when  he  went  up  stairs  after  tea,  take  his  watch-key 
from  the  pin  it  hung  on,  and  put  it  into  his  second 
bureau  drawer  under  his  woollen  socks.  Then  he 
went  across  into  Miss  Tryphosa's  room,  and  hung  her 
watch-key  on  a  tack  behind  her  looking-glass.  He 
thought  she  would  not  look  there,  and,  as  it  happened, 
she  never  did.  Those  were  in  the  early  days.  School 
boys  had  no  watches  then.  I  do  not  think  they  even 
wrote  home  for  them.  If  they  did  the  watches  did 
not  come. 

I  do  not  recollect  that  George  then  told  me  he  did 
this  ;  but  I  knew  he  did,  because  I  knew  he  could. 
I  had  no  fear  whatever,  when  I  went  to  bed  that 
night,  that  the  doctor  would  wind  up  his  watch,  or 
Miss  Tryphosa  hers.  As  it  happened  neither  of  them 
did.  Each  asked  the  other  for  a  key,  the  master 
tried  the  old  gold  key  which  hung  at  his  fob,  which 
had  been  worn  out  by  his  grandfather  when  he  was 
before  Quebec  with  Amherst.  Both  of  them  said  it 
was  very  careless  in  Chloe,  and  both  of  them  went  to 
bed. 


THE   GOOD-NATUKED   PENDULUM.  1 

We  all  got  up  early  the  next  day,  as  we  had  prom 
ised.  But  before  breakfast  I  did  not  go  near  ^IQ 
clock,  —  you  need  not  charge  that  on  me.  I  hurrie<T  ^ 
the  others,  —  got  them  to  breakfast,  —  and  ate  my 
own  speedily.  Then  I  did  go  into  the  school-room 
ten  minutes  before  the  crowd.  I  locked  both  doors 
and  drew  down  the  paper-hanging  curtain.  I  took  a 
brad-awl  out  of  my  pocket,  and  unscrewed  the  pen 
dulum  from  the  bottom  of  the  rod.  I  left  it  in  the 
bottom  of  the  box.  I  took  a  horseshoe  from  my  pocket 
and  lashed  it  tight  with  packthread  about  a  quarter 
way  down  the  rod,  —  perhaps  two  inches  above  the 
quarter.  I  put  in  a  nail  after  it  was  tied,  twisted  the 
string  round  it  twice,  • —  and  rammed  the  point  into 
the  knot.  Then  I  started  the  pendulum  again,— 
found  to  my  delight  that  it  was  very  good-natured, 
and  ticked  twice  as  fast  as  I  ever  heard  it,  —  I  shut 
and  locked  the  clock  door,  rolled  up  the  paper-hanging 
curtain,  and  unlocked  the  school  doors.  If  you  choose 
to  say  I  went  to  the  clock  after  breakfast,  before  school, 
that  is  true,  —  I  do  not  deny  it.  If  you  say  I  went 
before  breakfast,  I  do  deny  it,  —  that  is  not  true.  If 
you  ask  if  it  was  right  for  me  to  do  so,  —  as  you  im 
plied  you  were  going  to  do,  —  I  do  not  claim  that  it 
was.  I  have  not  said  it  was  right.  All  I  have  said 
yet  is  that  the  pendulum  was  good-natured.  And  I 
will  always  protest  —  as  I  have  often  done  before  — 
against  these  interruptions. 

I  suppose  I   was   engaged  three  minutes  in  these 


8  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

affairs.  I  cannot  tell,  because  the  clock  had  stopped, 
and,  when  we  are  pleasantly  employed,  time  flies.  I 
was  not  interrupted.  Nobody  came  into  that  school 
room  before  it  was  time.  In  the  Boston  schools  now 
"tKeyTiire  the  scholars  to  be  unpunctual,  giving  them 
extra  credits  if  they  arrive  five  minutes  too  early.  If 
they  knew,  as  well  as  I  do,  what  nuisances  people  are 
who  come  before  the  time  fixed  for  their  arrival,  they 
would  not  bribe  the  children  in  that  direction.  Cer 
tainly  dear  old  Parson  Whipple  did  not.  We  went 
in  when  the  clock  struck,  and  we  went  out  when  it 
struck.  He  had  no  idea  of  improving  on  what  was 
exactly  right.  If  he  had  read  Voltaire,  he  would 
have  said,  "  Le  mieux  est  Pennemi  du  bon." 

So  when  the  clock  struck  eight  we  rushed  in.  Rev 
erent  silence  at  prayers.  I  suppose  my  conscience 
pricked  me ;  I  have  very  little  doubt  it  did,  —  but  I 
don't  remember  it  at  all.  Little  boys  called  up  in 
Latin  grammar.  Luckily  they  were  all  well  up,  and 
gabbled  off  their  lesson  in  fine  style  :  — 

"  Amussis,  a  mason's  rule. 

"  Buris,  the  beam  of  a  plough,"  &c.,  &c. 

The  lessons  went  down  —  one  exception  to  each  boy 
—  without  one  halt ;  the  master  nodded  with  pleasure, 
and  passed  up  to  the  first  boy  again  ;  down  it  went 
again,  and  down  again.  These  \?tre  bright  little  fel 
lows  ;  not  one  mistake,  —  perfect  credits  all. 

"  It  is  a  very  good  lesson,"  said  the  dear  old  soul. 
"  It 's  a  pleasure  to  hear  boys  when  they  recite  so 


THE   GOOD-NATURED   PENDULUM.  9 

well.  This  will  give  us  a  little  time  for  me  to  show 
you  —  " 

What  he  was  going  to  show  them  I  do  not  know. 
He  turned  round  as  he  said  "  time,"  and  saw  to  his 
amazement  that  the  clock  pointed  to  8.30.  He  put 
his  hand  to  his  watch  unconsciously,  and  half  smiled 
when  he  saw  it  had  run  down. 

"  No  matter,"  said  he,  u  we  are  later  than  I  thought. 
Seats,  — algebra  boys." 

So  we  took  our  places,  and  very  much  the  same 
thing  followed.  Singleton  and  I  were  sent  to  the 
blackboards,  —  for  the  dear  old  man  was  in  advance  of 
the  age  in  those  matters,  —  and  we  did  our  very  quick 
est.  But  Hackmatack  had  not  our  motive,  and  per 
haps  did  not  understand  the  algebra  so  well,  so  that 
he  stumbled  and  made  a  long  business  of  it,  and  so 
did  the  boy  who  was  next  to  him.  That  boy  was  still 
on  the  rack,  too  much  puzzled  to  see  what  Singleton 
meant  by  holding  up  three  fingers  of  one  hand  and 
one  of  the  other,  when  the  Parson  said,  "  I  cannot 
spend  all  the  morning  upon  you  ;  sit  down,  sir,"  sent 
another  boy  to  the  board^o  explain  my  work,  looked 
at  the  clock,  and  was  this  time  fairly  surprised  to  see 
that  it  was  already  half  past  nine.  He  seized  the 
opportunity  for  a  Parthian  lesson  to  Brereton  and 
Hackmatack.  "  Half  an  hour  each  on  one  of  the  sim 
plest  problems  in  the  book.  And  I  must  put  off  the 
other  boys  till  to-morrow."  The  other  boys  were  a 
little  amazed  at  their  respite,  but  took  the  goods  the 
l  * 


10  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

gods  provided  without  comment.  We  went  to  our 
seats,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes  it  was  quarter  of 
ten,  and  we  were  sent  out  to  recess.  Recess,  you 
know,  was  quarter  of  an  hour  ;  it  generally  began  at 
quarter  of  eleven,  but  to-day  we  had  it  at  quarter  of 
ten,  because  school  was  an  hour  earlier.  I  say  quarter 
of  ten  because  the  clock  said  so.  The  sun  was  over 
cast  with  a  heavy  Indian-summer  mist,  so  we  could 
not  compare  the  clock  with  the  sun-dial. 

The  little  boys  carried  out  their  lunch  as  usual,  going 
through  the  store-closet  on  the  way.  But  there  was 
not  much  enthusiasm  on  the  subject  of  lunch,  and  a 
good  deal  of  generosity  was  observed  in  the  offer  from 
one  to  another  of  apples  and  doughnuts,  —  which, 
however,  were  not  often  accepted.  I  soon  stopped 
this  by  saying  that  nobody  wanted  lunch  because  we 
were  to  dine  so  early,  and  proposing  that  we  should 
all  save  our  provisions  for  the  afternoon  picnic.  Mean 
while,  I  conferred  with  Clapp  about  the  black  mare. 
He  said  she  was  in  the  upper  pasture,  which  was  the 
next  field  to  our  sugar-lot ;  and  he  thought  he  would 
run  across  now  and  drive  her  down  into  the  lower 
pasture,  in  which  case  she  would  be  standing  by  the 
bars  as  soon  as  school  was  over,  and  he  could  take  her 
at  once,  and  give  her  some  grain  while  we  were  eating 
our  dinner.  Clapp,  you  see,  was  a  day  scholar.  I 
asked  him  if  he  should  have  time,  and  he  said  of  course 
he  should.  But,  in  fact,  he  was  not  out  of  sight  of 
the  house  before  the  master  rang  the  bell  out  of  the 


THE   GOOD-NATUEED   PENDULUM.  11 

window,  and  recess  was  over.  Even  the  little  boys 
said  it  was  the  shortest  recess  they  had  ever  known. 

So  far  as  I  felt  any  anxiety  that  day,  it  was  in  the 
next  exercise.  This  was  the  regular  writing  of  copies 
by  the  whole  school.  Now  the  writing  of  copies  is  a 
pretty  mechanical  business,  and  the  master  was  a 
pretty  methodical  man,  and  when  he  assigned  to  us 
ten  lines  of  the  copy-book  to  be  written  in  twenty-five 
minutes,  giving  him  five  for  "  inspection,"  he  meant 
very  nearly  what  he  said,  as  he  generally  did.  I  ven 
tured  to  say  to  Hackmatack  and  Clapp,  as  we  sat 
down  at  our  form,  "  Let 's  all  write  like  hokey."  But 
I  did  not  dare  explain  to  them,  and  far  less  to  the 
others,  why  the  writing  should  be  rapid.  Earlier  than 
that,  my  uncle  had  taught  me  one  of  the  great  lessons 
of  life,  —  "  If  you  want  your  secret  kept,  keep  it." 

So  we  all  fell  to,  —  on 

Time  trips  for  triflers,  but  flies  for  the  faithful, 

which  was  the  copy  for  the  big  boys  for  the  day.  The 
little  boys  were  still  mum-mum-mumming  in  very 
large  letters.  Singleton  and  I  put  in  our  fastest,  — - 
and  Clapp  and  Hackmatack  caught  the  contagion. 
The  master  sat  correcting  Latin  exercises,  and  the 
school  was  very  still,  as  always  when  we  were  writ 
ing.  How  lucky  that  you  never  could  hear  the  old 
clock  tick  when  the  case  was  shut  and  fastened  I  I 
should  not  be  much  worried  now  by  the  stint  we  had 
then,  but  in  those  days  these  fingers  were  more  fit  for 


12  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

bats  and  balls  than  for  pens,  and  the  up-strokes  had  to 
be  very  fine  and  the  down-strokes  very  heavy.  Still, 
we  had  always  thought  it  a  bore  to  be  kept  twenty- 
five  minutes  on  those  ten  lines,  and  so  we  had  some 
margin  to  draw  upon.  And  as  that  rapid,  good-na 
tured  minute-hand  neared  the  V  on  the  clock  I  fin 
ished  the  u  in  the  last  u  faithful,"  —  having  unfortu 
nately  no  room  left  on  the  line  for  the  I.  Hackma 
tack  was  but  a  word  behind  me,  and  Clapp  and  Sin 
gleton  had  but  a  few  "  faithfuls  "  to  finish.  Why  do 
boys  think  it  easier  to  write  their  words  in  columns 
than  in  lines  ?  Is  it  simply  because  this  is  the  wrong 
way,  —  O  shade  of  Calvin  !  —  or  that  the  primeval 
civilization  still  lingers  in  their  blood,  and  the  Fathers 
wrote  so,  O  Burlingame  and  shade  of  Confucius  ? 

We  sat  up  straight,  and  held  our  long  quill  pens 
erect,  as  was  our  duty  when  we  had  finished.  The 
little  boys  from  their  side  of  the  room  looked  up  sur 
prised  ;  and  redoubled  the  vicious  speed  by  which 
already  their  mums  had  been  debasing  themselves  into 
uiuiui  with  the  dots  in  the  i's  omitted.  Faithful 
Brereton  and  Harris  and  Wells  —  I  can  see  them 
now  —  plodded  on  unconscious  ;  I  could  see  that  none 
of  them  had  advanced  more  than  a  quarter  down  his 


For  a  few  minutes  the  dominie  did  not  observe  our 
erected  pen-feathers,  so  engaged  was  he  in  altering  a 
"  sense  line  "  of  Singleton's  or  somebody's.  The 
"  sense  "  of  this  line  was,  that  "  the  virtuous  father 


THE   GOOD-NATUKED   PENDULUM.  13 

of  Minerva  always  rewarded  green  conquerors,"  such 
epithets  and  expletives  having  suggested  themselves 
from  Browne's  Viridarium.  But  the  last  syllable  of 
"  Palladis  "  had  got  snagged  behind  a  consonant,  and 
the  amiable  dominie  was  relieving  it  from  the  over 
pressure.  So  we  sat  like  Roman  senators,  with  our 
quill  sceptres  poised,  —  not  coughing  nor  moving,  nor 
in  any  way  calling  his  attention,  that  the  others  might 
have  the  more  time.  And  the  little  boys  fairly  gal 
loped  with  their  mums.  But  our  sedate  fellows  on  the 
other  form  plodded  painfully  on,  —  and  had  only  fin 
ished  seven  lines  when  Mr.  Whipple  looked  up,  saw 
the  senators  and  the  sceptres,  and  said,  reproachfully : 
"  You  cannot  all  have  hurried  through  that  copy  ! 
the  chestnuts  turn  your  heads."  With  the  moment 
he  turned  his,  to  see  that  the  minute-hand  had  passed 
a  full  half-circle.  "Is  it  half  past?"  he  said  inno 
cently.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  but  among  the  Muses, 
you  know,  we  are  unconscious  of  time.  Well,  well, 
let  us  see.  Rather  shabby,  George,  —  rather  shabby ; 
not  near  so  good  as  yesterday  ; 

4  Some  strains  are  short  and  some  are  shorter  '/ 

and  you  too,  Singleton.  I  do  not  know  when  you 
have  been  so  careless,  —  you  both  of  you  are  in  such 
haste.  See,  Wells  and  Harris  have  not  yet  finished 
their  lines. 

Wells  and  Harris  I  think  were  as  much  astonished 
in  their  way  ;  for  it  was  not  their  wont  to  come  in 


14  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

sixth    and    seventh  —  fairly    distanced,    indeed on, 

any  such  race-course.  But  there  was  little  time  for 
criticism.  That  good-natured  pendulum  was  rushing 
on.  The  little  boys  escaped  without  comment  on 
those  vicious  m's,  and,  if  there  were  anything  in  the 
system,  each  one  of  them  ought  to  write  "  common 
wealth  "  now,  so  that  it  should  pass  the  proof-reader 
as  "  counting-house."  But  there  is  not  much  in  the 
system,  and  I  dare  say  they  are  all  bank  presidents, 
editors,  professors  of  penmanship,  or  other  men  of 
letters. 

The  clock  actually  pointed  at  quarter  of  eleven  ! 
Now  at  10.30  we  should  have  been  out  at  recitation, 
translating  Camilla  well  over  the  plain.  *  We  had 
thrown  her  across  the  river  on  a  lance  the  day  before. 
We  shuffled  out,  and  I,  still  in  a  hurry,  had  to  be  cor 
rected  for  speed  by  the  master.  I  then  assumed  a 
more  decorous  tone,  his  grated  nerves  were  soothed 
as  he  heard  the  smooth  cadences  of  the  Latin,  —  and 
then,  of  course,  just  the  same  thing  happened  as  be 
fore.  The  lesson  was  ninety  lines,  but  we  had  not 
read  half  of  them  when  Miss  Tryphosa  put  in  her 
head  to  look  at  the  clock. 

"  Beg  pardon,  brother,  my  watch  has  run  down. 
Bless  me,  it  is  half  past  eleven  !  "  And  she  receded 
as  suddenly  as  she  came.  As  she  went  she  was  heard 
asking,  "  Where  can  the  morning  have  gone  ?  "  and 
observing  to  vacant  space  in  the  hall,  that  "  the  potatoes 
were  not  yet  on  the  fire."  As  for  the  dominie,  he 


THE   GOOD-NATURED   PENDULUM.  15 

ascribed  all  this  to  our  beginning  the  Yirgil  too  late  ; 
said  we  might  stay  on  the  benches  and  finish  it  now, 
and  gave  the  little  boys  another  "  take "  in  their 
arithmetics,  while  we  stayed  till  the  welcome  clock 
struck  twelve. 

"  Certainly  a  short  morning,  boys.  So  much  for 
being  quiet  and  good.  Good  day,  now,  and  a  pleasant 
afternoon  to  you."  It  is  at  this  point,  so  far  as  I 
know,  that  my  conscience,  for  the  first  time,  tingled  a 
little. 

A  little,  but,  alas,  not  long !  We  rushed  in  for 
dinner.  Poor  Miss  Tryphosa  had  to  apologize  for  the 
first  and  last  time  in  her  life  !  Somehow  we  had 
caught  her,  she  said.  She  was  sure  she  had  no  idea 
how,  —  but  the  morning  had  seemed  very  short  to 
her,  and  so  our  potatoes  were  not  done.  But  they 
would  be  done  before  long,  —  and  of  course  we  had 
not  expected  much  from  a  picked-up  dinner,  an  hour 
early.  We  all  thanked  and  praised.  I  cut  the  cold 
corned  beef,  and  we  fell  to,  — our  appetites,  unlunched, 
beginning  to  come  into  condition.  My  only  trouble 
was  to  keep  the  rest  back  till  Miss  Tryphosa's  pota 
toes  —  the  largest  a  little  hard  at  heart  —  appeared. 

For,  in  truth,  the  boys  were  all  wild  to  be  away. 
And  as  soon  as  the  potatoes  were  wrell  freed  from  their 
own  jackets  and  imprisoned  under  ours,  I  cut  the  final 
slices  of  the  beef.  Hackmatack  cut  the  corresponding 
bread  ;  the  little  boys  took  galore  of  apples  and  of 
doughnuts ;  we  packed  all  in  the  lunch-baskets,  took 


16  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

the  hard  eggs  beside,  and  the  salt,  and  were  away. 
As  the  boys  went  down  the  hill,  I  stopped  in  the  school 
room,  locked  the  doors,  drew  the  curtain,  opened  the 
clock,  cut  the  packthread,  pocketed  the  horseshoe, 
screwed  on  the  bob,  and  started  the  pendulum  a^ain. 
A  very  good-natured  pendulum  indeed  !  It  had  done 
the  work  of  four  hours  in  two.  How  much  better 
that  than  sulking,  discontented,  for  a  whole  hour,  in 
the  corner  of  a  farmer's  kitchen  !  y 
I  Miss  Tryphosa  and  riir  UrbHterhad  the  feeling,  I 
suppose,  which  sensible  people  have  about  half  the 
days  of  their  lives,  "  that  it  is  extraordinary  the  time 
should  go  so  fast !  "  So  much  for  being  infinite  be- 
]ngs7"clad  for  only  a  few  hours  in  time  and  clay,  nor 
i  wholly  at  home  in  those  surroundings. 

Did  I  say  I  would  write  the  history  of  that  chest- 
nutting?  I  did  not  say  so.  I  did  not  entitle  this 
story  "  The  Good  Chestnuts,"  but  "  The  Good-na 
tured  Pendulum."  I  will  only  say  to  the  little  girls 
that  all  went  well.  We  waited  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
for  a  few  minutes  till  Clapp  and  Perkins  came  up  with 
the  mare  and  wagon.  They  said  it  was  hardly  half 
an  hour  since  school,  but  even  the  little  boys  knew 
better,  because  the  clock  had  struck  one  as  we  left 
the  school-house.  It  was  a  little  odd,  however,  that, 
as  the  boys  said  this,  the  doctor  passed  in  his  gig,  and 
when  Clapp  asked  him  what  time  it  was  he  looked  at 
his  watch,  and  said,  "  Half  past  ten." 
But  the  doctor  always  was  so  queer ! 


THE   GOOD-NATURED   PENDULUM.  17 

WELL,  we  had  a  capital  time  ;  just  that  pleasant 
([haze  hung  over  the  whole-J  Into  the  pasture,  —  by  the 
second-growth,  —  over  the  stream,  into  the  trees, — 
and  under  them,  —  fingers  well  pricked,  —  bags  all  the 
time  growing  fuller  and  fuller.  Then  the  afternoon 
lunch,  which  well  compensated  for  the  abstemiousness 
of  the  morning's,  then  a  sharp  game  at  ball  with  the 
chestnut  burrs,  —  and  even  the  smallest  boys  were 
made  to  catch  them  bravely,  —  and,  as  the  spines  ran 
into  their  little  plump  hands,  to  cry,  "  Pain  is  no  evil !  " 
A  first-rate  frolic,  —  every  minute  a  success.  The 
sun  would  steal  down,  but  for  once,  though  we  had 
not  too  much  time,  we  seemed  to  have  enough  to  get 
through  without  a  hurry.  We  big  boys  were  respon 
sible  for  the  youngsters,  and  we  had  them  safely  up 
on  the  Holderness  road,  by  Clapp's  grandmother's, 
Tom  Lynch  driving  and  the  little  ones  piled  in  —  Sa 
rah  Clavers  in  front  —  with  the  chestnut-bags,  when 
the  sun  went  down. 

By  the  time  it  was  pitch  dark  we  were  at  home, 
and  were  warmly  welcomed  by  the  master  and  Miss 
Tryphosa.  Good  soul,  she  even  made  dip-toast  for 
our  suppers,  and  had  hot  apples  waiting  for  us  between 
the  andirons.  The  boys  rushed  in  shouting,  scattered 
to  wash  their  hands,  and  to  get  her  to  pick  out  the 
thorns,  and  some  of  our  fellows  put  on  some  of  the 
chestnuts  to  boil.  For  me,  I  stepped  into  the  school 
room,  and,  in  the  dark,  moved  the  hour-hand  of  the 
clock  back  two  hours.  Before  long  we  all  gathered  at 


18  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

tea,  —  the  master  with  us,  as  was  his  custom  in  the 
evening. 

After  we  had  told  our  times,  as  we  big  boys  sat 
picking  over  chestnuts,  after  the  little  ones  had  been 
excused,  Miss  Tryphosa  said,  "  Well,  boys,  I  am  sure 
I  am  much  indebted  to  you  for  one  nice  long  after 
noon."  My  cheeks  tingled  a  little,  and  when  the 
master  said,  "  Yes,  the  afternoon  fairly  made  up  the 
shortcomings  of  the  morning,"  I  did  not  dare  to  look 
him  in  the  face  .^Singleton  slipped  off  from  table,  and 
I  think  he  then  went  and  replaced  the  watch-keys. 

The  next  day,  as  we  sat  in  algebra,  the  clock  struck 
twelve  instead  of  ten.  The  master  went  and  stopped 
the  striking  part.  Did  he  look  at  me  when  he  did 
so  ?  He  is  now  Bishop  of  New  Archangel.  Will  he 
perhaps  write  me  a  line  to  tell  me  ?  And  that  after 
noon,  when  Brereton  was  on  his  "  Scientific  Dia 
logues,"  actually  the  master  said  to  him,  "  I  will  go 
back  to  the  last  lesson,  Brereton.  What  is  the  length 
of  a  second's  pendulum  ?  "  And  Brereton  told  him. 
"  What  should  you  think  the  beat  of  our  pendulum 
here  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  opening  the  case.  Brereton 
could  not  tell  ;  and  the  master  explained  ;  that  this 
pendulum  was  five  feet  long.  That  the  time  of  the 
oscillations  of  two  pendulums  was  as  the  square  root 
of  the  lengths,  Brereton  had  already  said  ;  so  he  was 
set  to  calculate  on  the  board  the  square  root  of  sixty 
inches,  and  the  square  root  of  the  second's  pendulum, 
39.139.  I  have  remembered  that  to  this  day.  So  he 
found  out  the  beat  of  our  pendulum,  —  and  then  we 


THE   GOOD-NATURED   PENDULUM.  19 

verified  it  by  the  master's  watch,  which  was  going  that 
afternoon.  Then  with  perfect  cold  blood  the  master 
said,  "  And  if  you  wanted  to  make  the  pendulum  go 
twice  as  fast,  Brereton,  what  would  you  do  ?  "  And 
Brereton,  innocent  as  Psyche,  but  eager  as  Pallas 
Athene,  said,  of  course,  that  he  would  take  the  square 
root  of  five,  divide  it  by  two,  and  square  the  quotient. 
"  The  square  is  1.225,"  said  he,  rapidly.  "  I  would 
cut  the  rod  at  one  foot  two  and  a  quarter  inches  from 
the  pivot,  and  hang  on  the  bob  there." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  master;  "  or,  more  simply, 
you  move  the  bob  up  three  quarters  of  the  way."  So 
saying  he  gave  us  the  next  lesson.  Did  he  know,  or 
did  he  not  know  ?  Singleton  and  I  looked  calmly  on, 
but  showed  neither  guilt  nor  curiosity.  * — 

Dear   master,   if   there  is  ink  and  paper  in   New    V 
Archangel,  write  me,  and  say,  did  you  know,  or  did 
you  not  know  ?     Accept  this  as  my  confession,  and 
grant  absolution  to  me,  being  penitent.  ^ 

Dear  master  and  dear  reader,  I  am  not  so  penitent 
but  I  will  own,  that,  in  a  thousand  public  meetings 
since,  I  have  wished  some  spirited  boy  had  privately  run 
the  pendulum-bob  up  to  the  very  pivot  of  the  rod.  Yes, 
and  there  have  been  a  thousand  nice  afternoons  at 
home,  or  at  George's,  -o£~wttli  Haliburton,  or  with 
Liston,  or  with  you,  when  I  have  wished  I  could 
stretch  the  rod  —  the  rest  of  you  unconscious  —  till 
it  was  ten  times  as  long. 

Dear  master,  I  am  your  affectionate 

FRED.  INGHAM. 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUYAL. 


[MR.  THACKERAY  seemed  to  lose  no  opportunity  to  show  his 
interest  in  American  history,  after  his  first  visit  here.  His 
admirable  novel,  "  The  Virginians,"  has  never  been  appreciated 
in  America  as  it  deserves.  I  believe  this  is  because  we  are  not 
yet  prepared  for  a  careful  or  a  conscientious  study  of  our  own 
Revolution,  and  the  events  which  led  to  it.  In  my  own  estimate 
of  Mr.  Thackeray,  his  power  as  a  philosophical  historian  was  no 
less  distinguished  than  his  power  as  a  novelist.  I  do  not  think 
it  would  be  difficult  to  show  that  the  imagination  which  enables 
a  writer  to  create  a  series  of  characters,  and  move  them  to  and 
fro  over  the  checker-board  of  a  romance,  is  the  same  power  by 
which  a  true  historian  makes  the  dead  bones  of  annals  live, 
and  move  about  as  men  and  women  again  on  the  field  of  their 
old  career.  •  When  Mr.  Macaulay  died,  I  could  not  but  hope 
that  Mr.  Thackeray  would  undertake  the  continuation  of  the 
unfinished  history  of  England.  He  would  have  carried  out  this 
work  with  more  success  than,  in  another  generation,  Smollett 
attained  in  his  continuation  of  Hume. 

True  to  his  interest  in  American  subjects,  Mr.  Thackeray 
brought  his  last  hero,  Denis  Duval,  to  the  edge  of  service  against 
Paul  Jones.  I  do  not  suppose  Mr.  Thackeray  knew  —  probably 
he  did  not  care  — how  indifferent  America  is  to  Paul  Jones, 
his  victory  or  his  reputation.  If  he  had  written  one  more  chap 
ter  of  "  Denis  Duval,"  it  would  have  been  to  describe  the  battle 
between  the  "  Bon  Homme  Richard  "  and  the  «  Serapis."  To 
do  this  he  had  brought  Duval  on  board  the  "  Serapis,"  just  be- 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  21 

fore  that  battle  took  place.  In  the  article  which  follows  I  have 
quoted  the  last  words  he  wrote  in  that  novel. 

Supposing  that  some  new  interest  had  been  attracted  to  Paul 
Jones  by  Mr.  Thackeray's  plan,  and  by  the  action  between 
the  Alabama  and  the  Kearsarge,  which  had  just  taken  place 
when  this  sketch  was  written,  I  attempted  to  write  for  lands 
men,  as  a  landsman  might,  an  account  of  the  action  as  it  would 
have  appeared  to  one  viewing  it  from  the  English  side.  Of 
course  I  was  not  rash  enough  to  take  Denis  Duval's  pen.  But  I 
introduced  him  among  the  lay-figures,  as  I  did  Mr.  Merry,  the 
midshipman  with  whom  Mr.  Cooper  makes  us  acquainted,  as 
one  of  Paul  Jones's  companions.  With  the  exception  of  Mr. 
Heddart,  Mr.  Merry,  and  Denis  Duval's  presence  on  the  scene, 
the  narration  is  purely  historical,  as  far  as  I  knew  how  to  make 
it  so,  on  a  study  of  all  the  known  authorities,  which  are  strangely 
few. 

The  article  was  first  printed  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for 
October,  1864.] 


INGHAM  and  his  wife  have  a  habit  of  coming  in  to 
spend  the  evening  with  us,  unless  we  go  there,  or 
unless  we  both  go  to  Haliburton's,  or  unless  there  is 
something  better  to  do  elsewhere. 

We  talk,  or  we  play  besique,  or  Mrs.  Haliburton 
sings,  or  we  sit  on  the  stoup  and  hear  the  crickets 
sing ;  but  when  there  is  a  new  Trollope  or  Thackeray, 
—  alas,  there  will  never  be  another  new  Thackeray  !  — 
all  else  has  always  been  set  aside  till  we  have  read  that 
al'oud. 

When  I  began  the  last  sentence  of  the  last  Thack- 


22  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

eray  that  ever  was  written,  Ingham  jumped  out  of  his 
seat,  and  cried,  — 

"  There !  I  said  I  remembered  this  Duval,  and  you 
made  fun  of  me.     Go  on,  —  and  I  will  tell  you  all 
about  him,  when  you  have  done." 
So  I  read  on  to  the  sudden  end. — 
"  We  had  been  sent  for  in  order  to  protect  a  fleet 
of  merchantmen  that  were  bound  to  the  Baltic,  and 
were   to  sail  under  the  convoy  of  our  ship  and  the 
Countess    of    Scarborough,    commanded    by    Captain 
Piercy.     And   thus  it  came  about,  that,  after  being 
twenty-five  days  in  his  Majesty's   service,  I  had  the 
fortune  to  be  present  at  one  of  the  most  severe  and 
desperate  combats  that  have  been  fought  in  our  or  in 
any  time. 

"  I  shall  not  attempt  to  tell  that  story  of  the  battle 
of  the  23d  of  September,  which  ended  in  our  glorious 
captain  striking  his  own  colors  to  our  superior  and  irre 
sistible  enemy."     (This  enemy,  as  Mr.  Thackeray  has 
just  said,  is  «  Monsieur  John  Paul  Jones,  afterwards 
Knight  of   His  Most  Christian   Majesty's   Order  of 
Merit.")      uSir   Richard    [Pearson   of    the   English 
frigate  Serapis]  has  told  the  story  of  the  disaster  in 
words  nobler  than  any  I  could  supply,  who,  though  in 
deed  engaged  in  that  fatal  action,  in  which  our  flag  went 
down  before  a  renegade  Briton  and  his  motley  crew, 
saw  but  a  very  small  portion  of  the  battle  which  ended 
so  fatally  for  us.     It  did  not  commence  till  nightfall. 
How  well  I  remember  the  sound  of  the  enemy's  gun, 


PAUL  JONES   AND  DENIS   DUVAL.  23 

of  which  the  shot  crashed  into  our  side  in  reply  to  the 
challenge  of  our  captain  who  hailed  her  !  Then  came 
a  broadside  from  us,  —  the  first  I  had  ever  heard  in 
battle."  * 

Ingham  did  not  speak  for  a  little  while.  None  of 
us  did.  And  when  we  did,  it  was  not  to  speak  of 
Denis  Duval,  so  much  as  of  the  friend  we  lost,  when 
we  lost  the  monthly  letter,  or  at  least,  Roundabout 
Paper  from  Mr.  Thackeray.  How  much  we  had 
prized  him,  —  how  strange  it  was  that  there  was  ever 
a  day  when  we  did  not  know  about  him,  —  how  strange 
it  was  that  anybody  should  call  him  cynical,  or  think 
men  must  apologize  for  him  :  —  of  such  things  and  of 
a  thousand  more  we  spoke,  before  we  came  back  to 
Denis  Duval. 

But  at  last  Fausta  said,  —  "  What  do  you  mean, 
Fred,  by  saying  you  remember  Denis  Duval  ?  " 

And  I,  —  "  Did  you  meet  him  at  the  Battle  of  Pa- 
via,  or  in  Valerius  Flaccus's  Games  in  Numidia?" 
For  we  have  a  habit  of -calling  Ingham  u  The  Wan 
dering  Jew." 

O 

But  he  would  not  be  jeered  at ;  he  only  called  us  to 
witness,  that,  from  the  first  chapter  of  Denis  Duval, 
he  had  said  the  name  was  familiar,  —  even  to  the  point 
of  looking  it  out  in  the  Biographical  Dictionary  ;  and 
now  that  it  appeared  Duval  fought  on  board  the  Sera- 
pis,  he  said  it  all  came  back  to  him.  His  grandfather, 
his  mother's  father,  was  a  "  volunteer  "-boy,  preparing 

*  Cornhill  Magazine,  June,  1864,  Vol.  IX.  p.  654. 


24  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

to  be  midshipman,  on  the  Serapis,  —  and  he  knew  he 
had  heard  him  speak  of  Duval ! 

O,  how  we  all  screamed  !     It   was  so  like  Ingham  I 
Haliburton  asked  him  if  his  grandfather  was  not  best- 
man  when  Denis  married  Agnes.     Fausta  asked  him 
if  he  would  not  continue  the  novel  in  the  "  Cornhill." 
I  said  it  was  well  known  that  the  old  gentleman  ad 
vised    Montcalm   to    surrender    Quebec,   interpreted 
between  Cook  and  the  first  Kamehameha,  piloted  La 
Perouse  between  the  Centurion  and  the  Graves  in  Bos 
ton  Harbor,  and  called  him  up  with  a  toast  at  a  school- 
dinner  ;  —  that  I  did  not  doubt,  therefore,  that  it  was 
all  right,  —  and  that  he  and  Duval  had  sworn  eternal 
friendship  in  their  boyhood,  and  now  formed  one  con 
stellation  in  the  southern  hemisphere.     But  after  we 
had  all  done,  Ingham  offered  to  bet  Newport  for  the 
Six  that  he  would  substantiate  what  he  said.     This  is 
by  far  the  most  tremendous  wager  in  our  little  com 
pany  ;  it  is  never  offered,  unless  there  be  certainty  to 
back  it;    it  is,   therefore,  never  accepted;    and    the 
nearest  approach  we  have  ever  made  to  Newport,  as  a 
company,  was  one  afternoon  when  we  went  to  South- 
Boston  Point  in  the   horse-car,   and  found  the   tide 
down.      Silence  reigned,  therefore,  and   the    subject 
changed. 

The  next  night  we  were  at  Ingham's.  He  unlocked 
a  ravishing  old  black  mahogany  secretary  he  has,  and 
produced  a  pile  of  parchment-covered  books  of  differ 
ent  sizes,  which  were  diaries  of  old  Captain  Heddart's. 


PAUL  JONES   AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  25 

They  were  often  called  log-books,  —  but,  though  in 
later  years  kept  on  paper  ruled  for  log-books,  and 
often  following  to  a  certain  extent  the  indications  of 
the  columns,  they  were  almost  wholly  personal,  and 
sometimes  ran  a  hundred  pages  without  alluding  at  all 
to  the  ship  on  which  he  wrote.  Well !  the  earliest  of 
these  was  by  far  the  most  elegant  in  appearance.  My 
eyes  watered  a  little,  as  Ingham  showed  me  on  the 
first  page,  in  the  stiff  Italian  hand  which  our  grand 
mothers  wrote  in,  when  they  aspired  to  elegance,  the 
dedication,  — 

"To  MY  DEAR  FRANCIS, 

who   will  write  something  here  every  day  because  he 
loves   his  MOTHER." 

The  old  English  gentleman,  whom  I  just  remember, 
fvhen  Ingham  first  went  to  sea,  as  the  model  of  mild, 
rind  old  men,  at  Ingham's  mother's  house, —  then  he 
vent  to  sea  once  himself  for  the  first  time,  —  and  he 
iad  a  mother  himself,  —  and  as  he  went  off,  she  gave 
lim  the  best  album-book  that  Thetford  Regis  could 
nake,  —  and  wrote  this  inscription  in  ink  that  was  not 
usty  then  I 

Well,  again  !  in  this  book,  Ingham,  who  had  been 
eading  it  all  day,  had  put  five  or  six  newspaper- 
i  arks. 

The  first  was  at  this  entry : 

"  A  new  boy  came  into  the  mess.     They  said  he 


26  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

was  a  French  boy,  but  the  first  luff  says  he  is  the 
Captain's  own  neffew." 

Two  pages  on  :  — 

"The  French  boy  fought  Wimple  and  beat  him. 
They  fought  seeventeen  rounds.'* 

Farther  yet :  — 

"  Toney  is  offe  on  leave.  So  the  French  boy  was  in 
oure  watch.  He  is  not  a  French  boy.  His  name  is 
Doovarl." 

In  the  midst  of  a  great  deal  about  the  mess,  and 
the  fellows,  and  the  boys,  and  the  others,  and  an  inex 
plicable  fuss  there  is  about  a  speculation  the  mess 
entered  into  with  some  illicit  dealer  for  an  additional 
supply,  not  of  liquor,  but  of  sugar,  — which  I  believe 
was  detected,  and  which  covers  pages  of  badly  written 
and  worse  spelled  manuscript,  not  another  distinct 
allusion  to  the  French  boy,  —  not  near  so  much  as  to 
Toney  or  Wimple  or  Scroop,  or  big  Wallis  or  little 
Wallis.  Ingham  had  painfully  toiled  through  it  all, 
and  I  did  after  him.  But  in  another  volume,  written 
years  after,  at  a  time  when  the  young  officer  wrote 
a  much  more  rapid,  though  scarcely  more  legible 
hand,  he  found  a  long  account  of  an  examination  ap 
pointed  to  pass  midshipmen,  and,  to  our  great  delight, 
as  it  began,  this  exclamation  :  — 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS   DUVAL.  27 

"  When  the  Amphion's  boat  came  up,  who  should 
step  up  but  old  Den,  whom  I  had  not  seen  since  wo 
were  in  the  Rainbow.  We  were  together  all  day,  — 
and  it  was  very  good  to  see  him." 

And  afterwards,  in  the  detail  of  the  examination, 
he  is  spoken  of  as  "  Duval."  The  passage  is  a  little 
significant. 

Young  Heddart  details  all  the  questions  put  to  him, 
as  thus :  — 

u  Old  Saumarez  asked  me  which  was  the  narrow 
est  part  of  the  Channel,  and  I  told  him.  Then  he 
asked  how  Silly  [sic]  bore,  if  I  had  75  fathom,  red 
sand  and  gravel.  I  said,  '  About  N.  W.,'  and  the  old 
man  said,  '  Well,  yes,  —  rather  West  of  N.  W.,  is 
not  it  so,  Sir  Richard  ?  '  And  Sir  Richard  did  not 
know  what  they  were  talking  about,  and  they  pulled 
out  Mackenzie's  Survey,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  —  more  than 
any  man  would  delve  through  at  this  day,  unless  he 
were  searching  for  Paul  Jones  or  Denis  Duval,  or 
some  other  hero.  "  What  is  the  mark  for  going  into 
Spithead?"  "What  is  the  mark  for  clearing  Royal 
Sovereign  Shoals  ?  "  —  let  us  hope  they  were  all  well 
answered.  Evidently,  in  Mr.  Heddart's  mind,  they 
were  more  important  than  any  other  detail  of  that 
day,  but  fortunately  for  posterity  then  comes  this  pas- 


"  After  me  they  called  up  Brooke,  and  Calthorp, 
and  Clements,  —  and  then  old  Wingate,  Tom  Win- 
gate's  father,  who  had  examined  them,  seemed  to  get 


28  THE  JNGHAM  PAPEES. 

tired,  and  turned  to  Pierson,  and  said,  '  Sir  Richard, 
you  ought  to  take  your  turn.'  And  so  Sir  Richard 
began,  and,  as  if  by  accident,  called  up  Den. 

"  4  Mr.  Duval,'  said  he,  '  how  do  you  find  the  vari 
ation  of  the  compass  by  the  amplitudes  or  azimuths  ?  ' 

"  Of  course  any  fool  knew  that.  And  of  course  he 
could  not  ask  all  such  questions.  So,  when  he  came 
on  practice,  he  said,  — 

"  4  Mr.  Duval,  what  is  the  mark  for  Stephenson's 
Shoal  ?  ' 

"  O  dear  !  what  fun  it  was  to  hear  Den  answer,  — 
Lyd  Church  and  the  ruins  of  Lynn  Monastery  must 
come  in  one.  The  Shoal  was  about  three  miles  from 
Dungeness,  and  bore  S.  W.  or  somewhere  from  it. 
The  Soundings  were  red  sand  —  or  white  sand  or 
something,  —  very  glib.  Then  — 

u  '  How  would  you  anchor  under  Dungeness,  Mr. 
Duval?' 

"  And  Duval  was  not  too  glib,  but  very  certain. 
He  would  bring  it  to  bear  S.  W.  by  W.,  or,  perhaps, 
W.  S.  W. ;  he  would  keep  the  Hope  open  of  Dover, 
and  he  wrould  try  to  have  twelve  fathoms  water. 

" 4  Well,  Mr.  Duval,  how  does  Dungeness  bear 
from  Beachy  Head  ?  '  —  and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

"  And  Den  was  very  good  and  modest,  but  quite 
correct  all  the  same,  and  as  true  to  the  point  as  Cocker 
and  Gunter  together.  O  dear !  I  hope  the  post- 
captains  did  not  know  that  Sir  Richard  was  Den's 
uncle,  and  that  Den  had  sailed  in  and  out  of  Win- 


PAUL  JONES   AND   DENIS  DUVAL. 


29 


chelsea  Harbor,  in  sight  of  Beachy  Head  and  Dunge- 

ness,  ever  since  the  day  after  he  was  born  ! 

"  But  he  made  no  secret  of  it  when  we  passed-mids 

dined  at  the  Anchor. 

"  A  jolly  time  we  had  !     I  slept  there." 

With  these  words,  Denis  Duval  vanishes  from  the 

Diary. 

Of  course,  as  soon  as  we  had  begged  Ingham's  par 
don,  we  turned  back  to  find  the  battle  with  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard.  Little  enough  was  there.  The 
entry  reads  thus,  —  this  time  rather  more  in  log-book 
shape. 

On  the  left-hand  page,  in  columns  elaborately 
ruled :  — 


Week-days. 

Sept. 
1779. 

Wind. 

Courses. 

Dist. 

Lat. 

Long. 

Bearings. 

Wednesday,  ) 
Thursday.     ) 

22.23 

S.E. 

Waiting 
for  convoy 
till  1  1  of 
Thursday. 

None. 

54°9' 

0°5'E. 

Flam- 
boro  H. 
N.  by  W. 

The  rest  of  that  page  is  blank.  The  right  page 
headed,  "  Remarks,  £c.,  on  board  H.  M.  S.  Serapis," 
in  the  boy's  best  copy-hand,  goes  on  with  longer  en 
tries  than  any  before. 

"  42  vessels  reported  for  the  convoy.  Mr.  Mycock 
says  we  shall  not  wait  for  the  rest." 

"  10  o'clock,  A.  M.  Thursday.  Two  men  came  on 
board  with  news  of  the  pirate  Jones.  Signal  for  a 


30 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


coast-pilot,  —  weighed  and  sailed  as  soon  as  he  came. 
As  we  passed  Flamboro'  Head  two  sails  in  sight  S.  S. 
W.,  which  the  men  say  are  he  and  his  consort." 
Then,  for  the  next  twenty-four  hours :  — 


Week-days. 

Sept. 
1779. 

Wind. 

Courses. 

Dist. 

Lat. 

Long. 

Bearings. 

Thursday,  ) 
Friday.       ) 

23.24 

S.S.W. 

E.S.E. 
W.S.W. 

Nothing. 

54.13. 

0.11.  E. 

Flam.  H. 
W.aftern. 
W.byN. 

"  Foggy  at  first,  —  clear  afterwards. 

"At  1  P.  M.  beat  to  quarters.  All  my  men  at 
quarters  but  West,  who  was  on  shore  when  we  sailed, 
the  men  say  on  leave,  —  and  Collins  in  the  sick  bay. 
(MEM.  shirked.)  The  others  in  good  spirits.  Mr. 
Wallis  made  us  a  speech,  and  the  men  cheered  well. 
Engaged  the  enemy  at  about  7.20  P.  M.  Mr.  Wallis 
had  bade  me  open  my  larboard  ports,  and  I  did  so ; 
but  I  did  not  loosen  the  stern-guns,  which  are  fought 
by  my  crew,  when  necessary.  The  captain  hailed  the 
stranger  twice,  and  then  the  order  came  to  fire.  Our 
gun  No.  2  (after-gun  but  one)  was  my  first  piece. 
No.  1  flashed,  and  the  gunner  had  to  put  on  new 
priming.  Fired  twice  with  those  guns,  but  before  we 
had  loaded  the  second  time,  for  the  third  fire,  the 
enemy  ran  into  us.  One  of  my  men  (Craik)  was 
badly  jammed  in  the  shock,  —  squeezed  between  the 
gun  and  the  deck.  But  he  did  not  leave  the  gun. 
Tried  to  fire  into  the  enemy,  but  just  as  we  got  the 
gun  to  bear,  and  got  a  new  light,  he  fell  off.  It  was 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  31 

very  bad  working  in  the  dark.  The  lanthorns  are  as 
bad  as  they  can  be.  Loaded  both  guns,  got  new  port 
fires,  and  we  ran  into  the  enemy.  We  were  wearing, 
and  I  believe  our  jib-boom  got  into  his  mizzen  rigging. 
The  ships  were  made  fast  by  the  men  on  the  upper 
deck.  At  first  I  could  not  bring  a  gun  to  bear,  the 
enemy  was  so  far  ahead  of  me.  But  as  soon  as  we 
anchored,  our  ship  forged  ahead  a  little,  —  and  by 
bringing  the  hind  axle-trucks  well  aft,  I  made  both 

O        O 

niy  starboard  guns  bear  on  his  bows.  Fired  right 
into  his  forward  ports.  I  do  not  think  there  was  a 
man  or  a  gun  there.  In  the  second  battery,  forward 
of  me,  they  had  to  blow  our  own  ports  open,  because 
the  enemy  lay  so  close.  Stopped  firing  three  times 
for  my  guns  to  cool.  No.  2  cools  quicker  than  No.  1, 
or  I  think  so.  Forward  we  could  hear  musket-shot, 
and  grenadoes,  —  but  none  of  these  things  fell  where 
we  were  at  work.  A  man  came  into  port  No.  5, 
where  little  Wallis  was,  and  said  that  the  enemy  was 
sinking,  and  had  released  him  and  the  other  prisoners. 
But  we  had  no  orders  to  stop  firing.  Afterwards  there 
was  a  great  explosion.  It  began  at  the  main  hatch, 
but  came  back  to  me  and  scalded  some  of  my  No.  2 
men  horribly.  Afterwards  Mr.  Wallis  came  and  took 
some  of  No.  2's  men  to  board.  I  tried  to  bring  both 
guns  to  bear  with  No.  1's  crew.  No.  2's  crew  did 
not  come  back.  At  half  past  ten  all  firing  stopped  on 
the  upper  deck.  Mr.  Wallis  went  up  to  see  if  the 
enemy  had  struck.  He  did  not  come  down,  —  but 


32 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


the  master  came  down  and  said  we  had  struck,  and 
the  orders  were  to  cease  firing. 

"  We  had  struck  to  the  Richard,  44,  Commodore 
Jones,  and  the  Alliance,  40,  which  was  the  vessel  they 
saw  from  the  quarter-deck.  Our  consort,  the  Coun 
tess  Scarborough,  had  struck  to  the  enemy's  ship  Pal 
las.  The  officers  and  crew  of  the  Richard  are  on 
board  our  ship.  The  mids  talk  English  well,  and  are 
good  fellows.  They  are  very  sorry  for  Mr.  May  rant, 
who  was  stabbed  with  a  pike  in  boarding  us,  and  Mr. 
Potter,  another  midshipman,  who  was  hurt. 


Week-days. 

Sept. 
1779. 

Wind. 

Courses. 

Dist. 

Lat. 

Long. 

Bearings. 

Friday,  ) 
Saturday.  ) 

24th, 
25th. 

S.S.W. 

None. 

As 
above. 

As 
above. 

As 
above. 

1 

v  "  The  enemy's  sick  and  wounded  and  prisoners 
were  brought  on  board.  At  ten  on  the  25th,  his  ship, 
the  Richard,  sank.  Played  chess  with  Mr.  Merry, 
one  of  the  enemy's  midshipmen.  Beat  him  twice  out 
of  three. 

"  There  is  a  little  French  fellow  named  Travaillier 
among  their  volunteers.  When  I  first  saw  him  he 
was  naked  to  his  waist.  He  had  used  his  coat  for  a 
wad,  and  his  shirt  wet  to  put  out  fire.  Plenty  of  our 
men  had  their  coats  burnt  off,  but  they  did  not  live  to 
tell  it." 

Then  the  diary  relapses  into  the  dreariness  of  most 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS   DUVAL.  88 

ship-diaries,  till  they  come  into  the  Texel,  when  it  is 
to  a  certain  extent  relieved  by  discussions  about  ex 
changes. 

Such  a  peep  at  the  most  remarkable  frigate-action 
in  history,  as  that  action  was  seen  by  a  boy  in  the 
dark,  through  such  key-hole  as  the  after-ports  of  one 
of  the  vessels  would  give  him,  stimulated  us  all  to 
"  ask  for  more,"  and  then  to  abuse  Master  Robert 
Heddart,  "volunteer,"  a  little,  that  he  had  not  gone 
into  more  detail.  Ingham  defended  his  grandfather 
by  saying  that  it  was  the  way  diaries  always  served 
you,  which  is  true  enough,  and  that  the  boy  had  lit 
erally  told  what  he  saw,  which  was  also  true  enough, 
only  he  seemed  to  have  seen  "  mighty  little,"  which  I 
suppose  should  be  spelled  "  mity  little."  When  we 
said  this,  Ingham  said  it  was  all  in  the  dark,  and  Hali- 
burton  added,  that  "  the  battle  lanterns  were  as  bad  as 
they  could  be."  Ingham  said,  however,  that  he  thought 
there  was  more  somewhere,  —  he  had  often  heard  the 
old  gentleman  tell  the  story  in  vastly  more  detail. 

Accordingly,  a  few  days  after,  he  sent  me  a  yellow 
old  letter  on  long  foolscap  sheets,  in  which  the  old 
gentleman  had  written  out  his  recollections  for  Ing- 
ham's  own  benefit  after  some  talk  of  old  times  on 
Thanksgiving  evening.  It  is  all  he  has  ever  found 
about  the  battle  in  his  grandfather's  rather  tedious 
papers,  and  one  passing  allusion  in  it  drops  the  curtain 
on  Denis  Duval. 

2*  n 


34  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Here  it  is  :  — 

"JAMAICA  PLAIN,  Nov.  29,  1824. 

"My  DEAR  BOY:  I  am  very  glad  to  comply  with 
your  request  about  an  account  of  the  great  battle 
between  the  Serapis  and  the  Bon  Homme  Richard 
and  her  consort.  I  had  rather  you  should  write  out 
what  I  told  you  all  on  Thanksgiving  evening  at  your 
mother's,  for  you  hold  a  better  pen  than  I  do.  But 
I  know  my  memory  of  the  event  is  strong,  for  it  was 
the  first  fight  I  ever  saw ;  and  although  it  does  not 
compare  with  Rodney's  great  fight  with  De  Grasse, 
which  I  saw  also,  yet  there  are  circumstances  con 
nected  with  it  which  will  always  make  it  a  remarkable 
fight  in  history. 

"  You  said,  at  your  mother's,  that  you  had  never  un 
derstood  why  the  men  on  each  side  kept  inquiring  if 
the  others  had  struck.  The  truth  is,  we  had  it  all  our 
own  way  below.  And,  as  it  proved,  when  our  cap 
tain,  Pearson,  struck,  most  of  his  men  were  below. 
I  know,  that,  in  all  the  confusion  and  darkness  and 
noise,  I  had  no  idea,  aft  on  the  main  deck,  that  we 
were  like  to  come  off  second  best.  On  the  other 
hand,  at  that  time,  the  Richard  probably  had  not  a 
man  left  between-decks,  unless  some  whom  they  were 
trying  to  keep  at  her  pumps.  But  on  her  upper 
deck  and  quarter-deck  and  in  her  tops  she  had  it  all 
her  own  way.  Jones  himself  was  there ;  by  that 
time  Dale  was  there ;  and  they  had  wholly  cleared 
our  upper  deck,  as  we  had  cleared  their  main  deck 


PAUL  JONES   AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  35 

and  gun-room.  This  was  the  strangeness  of  that  bat 
tle.  We  were  pounding  through  and  through  her, 
while  she  did  not  fight  a  gun  of  her  main  battery. 
But  Jones  was  working  his  quarter-deck  guns  so  as 
almost  to  rake  our  deck  from  stem  to  stern.  You 
know,  the  ships  were  foul  and  lashed  together.  Jones 
says  in  his  own  account  he  aimed  at  our  main-mast 
and  kept  firing  at  it.  You  can  see  that  no  crew  could 
have  lived  under  such  a  fire  as  that.  There  you  have 
the  last  two  hours  of  the  battle  ;  Jones's  men  all 
abovas  our  men  all  below ;  we  pounding  at  his  main 
deck,  he  pelting  at  our  upper  deck.  If  there  had  not 
been  some  such  division,  of  course  the  thing  could  not 
have  lasted  so  long,  even  with  the  horrid  havoc  there 
was.  I  never  saw  anything  like  it,  and  I  hope,  dear 
boy,  you  may  never  have  to." 

[ Mem.  by  Ingham.  I  had  just  made  my  first  cruise 
as  a  midshipman  in  the  U.  S.  navy  on  board  the  In 
trepid,  when  the  old  gentleman  wrote  this  to  me.  He 
made  his  first  cruise  in  the  British  navy  in  the  Serapis. 
After  he  was  exchanged,  he  remained  in  that  service 
till  1789,  when  he  married  in  Canso,  N.  S.,  resigned 
his  commission,  and  settled  there.] 

The  letter  continues  :  — 

u  I  have  been  looking  back  on  my  own  boyish 
journal  of  that  time.  My  mother  made  me  keep  a 
log,  as  I  hope  yours  does.  But  it  is  strange  to  see 
how  little  of  the  action  it  tells.  The  truth  is,  I  was 
nothing  but  a  butterfly  of  a  youngster.  To  save  my 


36  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

conceit,  the  first  lieutenant,  Wallis,  told  me  I  was 
assigned  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  after-battery,  where 
were  two  fine  old  fellows  as  ever  took  the  King's  pay 
really  commanding  the  crews  and  managing  the  guns. 
Much  did  I  know  about  sighting  or  firing  them ! 
However,  I  knew  enough  to  keep  my  place.  I  re 
member  tying  up  a  man's  arm  with  my  own  shirt 
sleeves,  by  way  of  showing  I  was  not  frightened,  as 
in  truth  I  was.  And  I  remember  going  down  to  the 
cockpit  with  a  poor  wretch  who  was  awfully  burned 
with  powder,  —  and  the  sight  there  was  so*-  much 
worse  than  it  was  at  my  gun  that  I  was  glad  to  get 
back  again.  Well,  you  may  judge,  that,  from  two 
after-portholes  below,  first  larboard,  then  starboard,  I 
saiv  little  enough  of  the  battle.  But  I  have  talked 
about  it  since,  with  Dale,  who  was  Jones's  first  lieu 
tenant,  and  whom  I  met  at  Charlestown  when  he  com 
manded  the  yard  there.  I  have  talked  of  it  with 
Wallis  many  times.  I  talked  of  it  with  Sir  Richard 
Pearson,  who  was  afterwards  Lieutenant-Governor  of 
Greenwich,  and  whom  I  saw  there.  Paul  Jones  I 
have  touched  my  hat  to,  but  never  spoke  to,  except 
when  we  all  took  wine  with  him  one  day  at  dinner. 
But  I  have  met  his  niece,  Miss  Janet  Taylor,  who 
lives  in  London  now,  and  calculates  nautical  tables. 
I  hope  you  will  see  her  some  day.  Then  there  is  a 
gentleman  named  Napier  in  Edinburgh,  who  has  the 
Richard's  log-book.  Go  and  see  it,  if  you  are  ever 
there,  —  Mr.  George  Napier.  And  I  have  read  every 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  37 

word  I  could  find  about  the  battle.  It  was  a  remark 
able  fight  indeed.  '  All  of  which  I  was,  though  so 
little  I  saw.'  " 

[Mem.  by  F.  C.  And  dear  Ingham's  nice  old  grand 
father  is  a  little  slow  in  getting  into  action,  me  judice. 
It  was  a  way  they  had  in  the  navy  before  steam.] 

The  letter  continues  :  — 

"  I  do  not  know  that  Captain  Pearson  was  a  remark 
able  man  ;  but  I  do  know  he  was  a  brave  man.  He 
was  made  Sir  Richard  Pearson  by  the  King  for  his 
bravery  in  this  fight.  When  Paul  Jones  heard  of 
that,  he  said  Pearson  deserved  the  knighthood,  and 
that  he  would  make  him  an  earl  the  next  time  he  met 
him.  Of  course,  I  only  knew  the  captain  as  a  mid 
shipman  (we  were  '  volunteers  '  then)  knows  a  post- 
captain,  and  that  for  a  few  months  only.  We  joined 
in  summer  (the  Serapis  was  just  commissioned  for  the 
first  time).  We  were  taken  prisoners  in  September, 
but  it  was  mid-winter  before  we  were  exchanged.  He 
was  very  cross  all  the  time  we  were  in  Holland.  I 
do  not  suppose  he  wrote  as  good  a  letter  as  Jones  did. 
I  have  heard  that  he  could  not  spell  well.  But  what 
I  know  is  that  he  was  a  brave  man. 

"  Paul  Jones  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  history. 
He  certainly  was  of  immense  value  to  your  struggling 
cause.  He  kept  England  in  terror;  he  showed  the 
first  qualities  as  a  naval  commander  ;  he  achieved 
great  successes  with  very  little  force.  Yet  he  has  a 
damaged  reputation.  I  do  not  think  he  deserves  this 


38  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

reputation  ;  but  I  know  he  has  it.  Now  I  can  see 
but  one  difference  between  him  and  any  of  your  land- 
heroes  or  your  water-heroes  whom  all  the  world  re 
spects.  This  is,  that  he  was  born  on  our  side,  and 
they  were  born  on  the  American  side.  This  ought 
not  to  make  any  difference.  But  in  actual  fact  I  think 
it  did.  Jones  was  born  in  the  British  Islands.  The 
popular  feeling  of  England  made  a  distinction  between 
the  allegiance  which  he  owed  to  King  George  and 
that  of  born  Americans.  It  ought  not  to  have  done 
so,  because  he  had  in  good  faith  emigrated  to  Amer 
ica  before  the  Rebellion,  and  took  part  in  it  with  just 
the  same  motives  which  led  any  other  American 
officer.* 

u  He  had  a  fondness  for  books  and  for  society,  and 
thought  himself  gifted  in  writing.  I  should  think  he 
wrote  too  much.  I  have  seen  verses  of  his  which  were 
very  poor." 

[Mem.  by  F.  C.  I  should  think  Ingham's  grand 
father  wrote  too  much.  I  have  seen  letters  of  his 
which  were  very  long,  before  they  came  to  their  sub 
ject.] 

The  letter  continues  :  — 

"  To  return.     The  Serapis,  as  I  have  said,  was  but 

*  Gates  was  an  Englishman,  and  has  a  damaged  reputation.  Lee 
was  another,  who  has  no  reputation  at  all.  Conway  was  an  Irishman, 
and  the  same  is  true  of  him.  But  these  men  all  did  something  to 
forfeit  esteem.  Jones  never  did.  Montgomery  died  in  the  full  flush 
of  his  deserved  honors.  He  was  Irish  by  birth. 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  39 

just  built.  She  had  been  launched  that  spring.  She 
was  one  of  the  first  44-gun  frigates  that  were  ever 
built  in  the  world.  We  (the  English)  were  the  first 
naval  power  to  build  frigates,  as  now  understood,  at 
all.  I  believe  the  name  is  Italian,  but  in  the  Med 
iterranean  it  means  a  very  different  thing.  We  had 
little  ships-of-the-line,  which  were  called  fourth-rates, 
and  which  fought  sixty,  and  even  as  low  as  fifty  guns ; 
they  had  two  decks,  and  a  quarter-deck  above.  But 
just  as  I  came  into  the  service,  the  old  Phoenix  and 
Rainbow  and  Roebuck  were  the  only  44s  we  had  :  they 
were  successful  ships,  and  they  set  the  Admiralty  on 
building  44-gun  frigates,  which,  even  when  they  car 
ried  50  guns,  as  we  did,  were  quite  different  from  the 
old  fourth-rates.  Very  useful  vessels  they  proved.  I 
remember  the  Romulus,  the  Ulysses,  the  Actason,  and 
the  Endymion :  the  Endymion  fought  the  President 
forty  years  after.  As  I  say,  the  Serapis  was  one  of 
a  batch  of  these  vessels  launched  in  the  spring  of  1779. 
"  We  had  been  up  the  Cattegat  that  summer,  wait 
ing  for  what  was  known  as  the  Baltic  fleet.*  If  there 

*  Not  bound  to  the  Baltic,  as  Mr.  Thackeray  supposes.  Cf.  Beat- 
son's  Naval  Memoirs,  Vol.  IV.  pp.  550-553,  where  the  language  is, 
"  He  fell  in  with  a  British  convoy  from  the  Baltic."  Jones's  own 
despatch  possibly  misled  Mr.  Thackeray,  for  he  says,  on  the  21st  of 
September,  he  tried  to  get  at  two  ships  which  were  waiting  "  to  take 
under  convoy  a  number  of  merchant  ships  bound  to  the  northward  " ; 
but  those  ships  put  back  to  the  Humber,  and  it  was  not  till  the  23d 
that  he  fell  in.  with  the  Serapis  and  her  convoy. 

A  London  newspaper,  of  the  28th  of  September,  says  :  "  Captain 


40  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

were  room  and  time,  I  could  tell  you  good  stories  of 
the  fun  we  had  at  Copenhagen.  At  last  we  got  the 
convoy  together,  and  got  to  sea,  —  no  little  job  in  that 
land-locked  sailing.  We  got  well  across  the  North 
Sea,  and,  for  some  reason,  made  Sunderland  first,  and 
afterwards  Scarborough. 

o 

"  We  were  lying  close  in  with  Scarborough,  when 
news  came  off  that  Paul  Jones,  with  a  fleet,  was  on 
the  coast.  Captain  Pearson  at  once  tried  to  signal 
the  convoy  back,  —  for  they  were  working  down  the 
coast  towards  the  Humber,  —  but  the  signals  did  no 
good  till  they  saw  the  enemy  themselves,  and  then 
they  scud  fast  enough,  passing  us,  and  running  into 

Pearson,  who  commands  the  Serapis,  was  coming  from  off  his  station 
in  the  North  Sea,  to  go  on  board  of  the  Endymion." 

October  28th  of  the  same  year,  "  the  Court  of  Directors  of  the  Eoyal 
Exchange  Insurance  Company  have  generously  voted  a  piece  of 
plate,  value  one  hundred  guineas,  to  be  presented  to  Captain  Pearson 
of  the  Serapis,  as  a  testimony  of  their  approbation  of  his  bearing  and 
conduct  in  protecting  the  valuable  fleet  from  the  Baltic  under  his  care." 

Allen's  History  of  York,  at  the  year  1779,  in  the  description  of  the 
battle,  says  :  "  A  valuable  fleet  of  merchantmen  from  the  Baltic,  under 
the  convoy  of  the  Serapis,  Captain  Pearson,  hove  in  sight."  My 
friend,  Mr.  J.  C.  Brevoort,  has  shown  to  me,  among  other  very  curi 
ous  memorials  of  Jones,  a  handsome  print,  engraved  by  Peltro,  from 
a  painting  by  Robert  Dodd,  which  is  a  representation  of  the  action, 
dated  London,  December  1,  1781.  The  inscription  on  this  print  states 
that  the  fleet  was  from  the  Baltic. 

These  are  wholly  independent  authorities,  and  leave  no  doubt  as  to 
the  fact  of  which  the  only  importance  now  is,  that  Mr.  Thackeray 
should  have  shipped  Denis  Duval  aboard  his  frigate  a  few  months 
earlier  than  he  did,  and  taken  him  into  the  Baltic  before  bringing  him 
into  action  against  Paul  Jones. 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  41 

Scarborough  Harbor.  We  had  not  a  great  deal  of 
wind,  and  the  other  armed  vessel  we  had,  the  Count 
ess  of  Scarborough,  was  slow,  so  that  I  remenber  we 
lay  to  for  her.  Jones  was  as  anxious  as  we  were  to 
fight.  We  neared  each  other  steadily  till  seven  in 
the  evening  or  later.  The  sun  was  down,  but  it  was 
full  moon,  —  and  as  we  came  near  enough  to  speak, 
we  could  see  everything  on  his  ship.  At  that  time 
the  Poor  Richard  was  the  only  ship  we  had  to  do 
with.  His  other  ships  were  after  our  consort.  The 
Richard  was  a  queer  old  French  Indiaman,  you  know. 
She  was  the  first  French  ship-of-war  I  had  ever  seen. 
She  had  six  guns  on  her  lower  deck,  and  six  ports  on 
each  side  there,  —  meaning  to  fight  all  these  guns 
on  the  same  side.  On  her  proper  gun-deck,  above 
these,  she  had  fourteen  guns  on  each  side,  —  twelves 
and  nines.  Then  she  had  a  high  quarter  and  a  high 
forecastle,  with  eight  more  guns  on  these,  —  having, 
you  know,  one  of  those  queer  old  poops  you  see  in  old 
pictures.  She  was,  therefore,  a  good  deal* higher  than 
we ;  for  our  quarter-deck  had  followed  the  fashion  and 
come  down.  We  fought  twenty  guns  on  our  lower 
deck,  twenty  on  our  upper  deck,  and  on  the  forecastle 
and  quarter-deck  we  had  ten  little  things,  —  fifty 
guns,  —  not  unusual,  you  know,  in  a  vessel  rated  as  a 
forty-four.  We  had  twenty-two  in  broadside.  I 
remember  I  supposed  for  some  time  that  all  French 
ships  were  black  because  the  Richard  was. 

"  As  I  said,  I  was  on  the  main  deck,  aft.     We  were 


42  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

all  lying  stretched  out  in  the  larboard  ports  to  see  and 
hear  what  we  could,  when  Captain  Pearson  himself 
hailed,  "  What  ship  is  that?  "  I  could  not  hear  their 
answer,  and  he  hailed  again,  and  then  said,  if  they  did 
not  answer,  he  would  fire.  We  all  took  this  as  good  as 
an  order,  and,  hearing  nothing,  tumbled  in  and  blazed 
away.  The  Poor  Richard  fired  at  the  same  time.  It 
was  at  that  first  broadside  of  hers,  as  you  remember, 
that  two  of  Jones's  heavy  guns,  below  his  main  deck, 
burst.  We  could  see  that  as  we  sighted  for  our  next 
broadside,  because  we  could  see  how  they  hove  up  the 
gun-deck  above  them.  As  for  our  shot,  I  suppose 
they  all  told.  We  had  ten  eighteen-pounders  in  that 
larboard  battery  below.  I  do  not  see  wrhy  any  shot 
should  have  failed. 

"  However,  he  had  no  thought  of  being  pounded 
to  pieces  by  his  own  firing  and  ours,  and  so  he  bore 
right  down  on  us.  He  struck  our  quarter,  just  for 
ward  of  my  forward  gun,  —  struck  us  hard,  too.  We 
had  just  fired  our  second  shot,  and  then  he  closed,  so 
I  could  not  bring  our  twTo  guns  to  bear.  This  wras 
when  he  first  tried  to  fasten  the  ships  together.  But 
they  would  not  stay  fastened.  He  could  not  bring  a 
gun  to  bear,  —  having  no  forward  ports  that  served 
him,  —  till  we  fell  off  again,  and  it  was  then  that  Cap 
tain  Pearson  asked,  in  that  strange  stillness,  if  he  had 
struck.  Jones  answered,  '  I  have  not  begun  to  fight.' 
And  so  it  proved.  Our  sails  were  filled,  he  backed 
his  top-sails,  and  we  wore  short  round.  As  he  laid 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  43 

us  athwart-hawse,  or  as  we  swung  by  him,  our  jib- 
boom  ran  into  his  mizzen-rigging.  They  say  Jones 
himself  then  fastened  our  boom  to  his  main-mast. 
Somebody  did,  but  it  did  not  hold,  but  one  of  our  an 
chors  hooked  his  quarter  and  so  we  fought,  fastened 
together,  to  the  end,  —  both  now  fighting  our  star 
board  batteries,  and  being  fixed  stern  to  stem. 

"  On  board  the  Serapis  our  ports  were  not  open  on 
the  starboard  side,  because  we  had  been  firing  on  the 
other.  And  as  we  ran  across  and  loosened  those  guns, 
the  men  amidships  actually  found  they  could  not  open 
their  ports,  the  Richard  was  so  close.  They  therefore 
fired  their  first  shots  right  through  our  own  port-lids, 
and  blew  them  off.  I  was  so  far  aft  that  my  port-lids 
swung  free. 

"  What  I  said  in  beginning  this  letter  will  explain 

to  you  the  long  continuance  of  the  action  after  this 

moment,  when,  you  would  say,  it  must  be  ended  by 

boarding,  or  in  some  other  way,  very  soon.     As  soon 

as  we  on  our  main  deck  got  any  idea  of  the  Richard's 

main  deck,  we  saw  that  almost  nobody  replied  to  us 

there.     In  truth,  two  of  the  six  guns  which  made  her 

lower  starboard  battery  had  burst,  and  Jones's  men 

would  not  fight  what  were  left,  nor  do  I  blame  them. 

Above,  their  gun-deck  had  been  hoisted  up,  and,  as  it 

proved  the   next  day,   we   were   cutting   them  right 

through.     We  pounded  away  at  what  we  could  see,  — 

and  much  more  at  what  we  could  not  see,  —  for  it 

was  now  night,  and  there  was  a  little  smoke,  as  you 


44  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

may  fancy.  But  above,  the  Richard's  upper  deck  was 
a  good  deal  higher  than  ours,  and  there  Jones  had 
dragged  across  upon  his  quarter  a  piece  from  the  lar 
board  battery,  so  that  he  had  three  nine-pounders, 
with  which  he  was  doing  his  best,  almost  raking  us,  as 
you  may  imagine.  No  one  ever  said  so  to  me,  that  I 
know,  but  I  doubt  whether  we  could  get  elevation 
enough  from  any  of  our  light  guns  on  our  upper  deck 
(nines)  to  damage  his  battery  much,  he  was  so  much 
higher  than  we.  As  for  musketry,  there  is  not  much 
sharp-shooting  when  you  are  firing  at  night  in  the 
sinoke,  with  the  decks  swaying  under  you. 

"  Many  a  man  has  asked  me  why  neither  side 
boarded,  —  and,  in  fact,  there  is  a  popular  impression 
that  Jones  took  our  ship  by  boarding,  as  he  did  not. 
As  to  that,  such  questions  are  easier  asked  than  an 
swered.  This  is  to  be  said,  however :  about  ten  o'clock, 
an  English  officer,  who  had  commanded  the  Union 
letter-of-marque,  which  Jones  had  taken  a  few  days 
before,  came  scrambling  through  one  of  our  ports 
from  the  Richard.  He  went  up  aft  to  Captain  Pear 
son  at  once,  and  told  him  that  the  Richard  was  sinking, 
that  they  had  had  to  release  all  her  prisoners  (and  she 
had  hundreds)  from  the  hold  and  spar-deck,  himself 
among  them,  because  the  water  came  in  so  fast,  and 
that,  if  we  would  hold  on  a  few  minutes  more,  the 
ship  was  ours.  Every  word  of  this  was  true,  except 
the  last.  Hearing  this,  Captain  Pearson  —  who,  if 
you  understand,  was  over  my  head,  for  he  kept  the 


PAUL  JONES  AND  DENIS  DUVAL.  45 

quarter-deck  almost  throughout  —  hailed  to  ask  if  they 
had  struck.  He  got  no  answer,  Jones  in  fact  being 
at  the  other  end  of  his  ship,  on  his  quarter,  pounding 
away  at  our  main-mast.  Pearson  then  called  for 
boarders  ;  they  were  formed  hastily,  and  dashed  on 
board  to  take  the  prize.  But  the  Richard  had  not 
struck,  though  I  know  some  of  her  men  had  called  for 
quarters.  Her  men  were  ready  for  us,  —  under  cover, 
Captain  Pearson  says  in  his  despatch,  —  Jones  him 
self  seized  a  pike  and  headed  his  crew,  and  our  men 
fell  back  again.  One  of  the  accounts  says  we  tried 
to  board  earlier,  as  soon  as  the  vessels  were  made  fast 
to  each  other.  But  of  this  I  know  nothing. 

"  Meanwhile  Jones's  people  could  not  stay  on  his 
lower  deck,  —  and  could  not  do  anything,  if  they  had 
stayed  there.  They  worked  their  way  above.  His 
main  deck  (of  twelves)  was  fought  more  successfully, 
but  his  great  strength  was  on  his  upper  deck  and  in 
his  tops.  To  read  his  own  account,  you  would  almost 
think  he  fought  the  battle  himself  with  his  three  quar 
ter-deck  cannon,  and  I  suppose  it  would  be  hard  to 
overstate  what  he  did  do.  Both  he  and  Captain  Pear 
son  ascribe  the  final  capture  of  the  Serapis  to  a  strange 
incident  which  I  will  tell  you. 

"  The  men  in  the  Richard's  tops  were  throwing 
hand-grenades  upon  our  decks,  and  at  last  one  fellow 
worked  himself  out  to  the  end  of  the  main-yard  with 
a  bucket  filled  with  these  missiles,  lighted  them  one 
by  one,  and  threw  them  fairly  down  our  main  hatch- 


46  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

way.  Here,  as  our  ill  luck  ordered,  was  a  row  of  our 
eighteen-gun  cartridges,  which  the  powder-boys  had 
left  there  as  they  went  for  more,  —  our  fire,  I  suppose, 
having  slackened  there  :  —  cartridges  were  then  just 
coming  into  use  in  the  navy.  One  of  these  grenades 
lighted  the  row,  and  the  flash  passed  —  bang  —  bang 
—  bang  —  back  to  me.  O,  it  was  awful!  Some 
twenty  of  our  men  were  fairly  blown  to  pieces.  There 
were  other  men  who  were  stripped  naked,  with  nothing 
on  but  the  collars  of  their  shirts  and  their  wristbands. 
Farther  aft  there  was  not  so  much  powder,  perhaps, 
and  the  men  were  scorched  and  burned  more  than 
they  were  wounded.  I  do  not  know  how  I  escaped, 
but  I  do  know  that  there  was  hardly  a  man  forward 
of  my  guns  who  did  escape,  —  some  hurt,  —  and  the 
groaning  and  shrieking  were  terrible.  I  will  not  ask 
you  to  imagine  all  this,  —  in  the  utter  darkness  of 
smoke  and  night  below-decks,  almost  every  lantern 
blown  out  or  smashed.  But  I  assure  you  I  can 
remember  it.  There  were  agonies  there  which  I 
have  never  trusted  my  tongue  to  tell.  Yet  I  see,  in 
my  journal,  in  a  boy's  mock-man  way,  this  is  passed 
by,  as  almost  nothing.  I  did  not  think  so  or  feel  so, 
I  can  tell  you. 

"  It  was  after  this  that  the  effort  was  made  to  board. 
I  know  I  had  filled  some  buckets  of  water  from  our 
lee  ports,  and  had  got  some  of  the  worst  hurt  of  my 
men  below,  and  was  trying  to  understand  what  Brooks, 
who  was  jammed,  but  not  burned,  thought  we  could 


PAUL  JONES   AND   DENIS  DUVAL.  47 

do,  to  see  if  we  could  not  at  least  clear  things  enough 
to  fight  one  gun,  when  boarders  were  called,  and  he 
left  me.  Cornish,  who  had  really  been  captain  of  the 
other  gun,  was  badly  hurt,  and  had  gone  below.  Then 
came  the  effort  to  board,  which,  as  I  say,  failed  ;  and 
that  was  really  our  last  effort.  About  half  past  ten, 
Captain  Pearson  struck.  He  was  not  able  to  bring  a 
gun  to  bear  on  the  Alliance,  had  she  closed  with  us ; 
his  ship  had  been  on  fire  a  dozen  times,  and  the  ex 
plosion  had  wholly  disabled  our  main  battery,  which 
had  been,  until  this  came,  our  chief  strength.  But 
so  uncertain  and  confused  was  it  all,  that  I  know, 
when  I  heard  the  cry,  '  They  've  struck,'  I  took  it  for 
granted  it  was  the  Richard.  In  fact  Captain  Pearson 
had  struck  our  flag  with  his  own  hands.  The  men 
would  not  expose  themselves  to  the  fire  from  the  Rich 
ard's  tops.  Mr.  Mayrant,  a  fine  young  fellow,  one 
of  Jones's  midshipmen,  was  wounded  in  boarding  us, 
after  we  struck,  because  some  of  our  people  did  not 
know  we  had  struck.  I  know,  when  Wallis,  our  first 
lieutenant,  heard  the  cry,  he  ran  up  stairs,  —  suppos 
ing  that  Jones  had  struck  to  us,  and  not  we  to  him. 

"  It  was  Lieutenant  Dale  who  boarded  us.  He  is 
still  living,  a  fine  old  man,  at  Philadelphia.  He  found 
Captain  Pearson  on  the  lee  of  our  quarter-deck  again, 
and  said,  — 

"  '  Sir,  I  have  orders  to  send  you  on  board  the  ship 
along-side.' 

"  Up  the  companion  comes  Wallis,  and  says  to  Cap 
tain  Pearson,  — 


48  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  «  Have  they  struck  ? ' 

"  i  No,  sir,'  said  Dale,  —  * the  contrary  :  he  has 
struck  to  us.' 

"  Wallis  would  not  take  it,  and  said  to  Pearson,  — 

"  4  Have  you  struck,  sir  ?  ' 

"  And  he  had  to  say  he  had.  Wallis  said,  '  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say,'  and  turned  to  come  down  to  us, 
but  Dale  would  not  let  him.  Wallis  said  he  would 
silence  the  lower-deck  guns,  but  Dale  sent  some  one 
else,  and  took  them  both  aboard  the  Richard.  Little 
Duval  —  a  volunteer  on  board,  not  yet  rated  as  mid 
shipman —  went  with  them.  Jones  gave  back  our 
captain's  sword,  with  the  usual  speech  about  bravery, 
—  but  they  quarrelled  awfully  afterwards. 

"  I  suppose  Paul  Jones  was  himself  astonished  when 
daylight  showed  the  condition  of  his  ship.  I  am  sure 
we  were.  His  ship  was  still  on  fire  :  ours  had  been 
a  dozen  times,  but  was  out.  Wherever  our  main  bat 
tery  could  hit  him,  we  had  torn  his  ship  to  pieces,  — 
knocked  in  and  knocked  out  the  sides.  There  was 
a  complete  breach  from  the  main-mast  to  the  stern. 
You  could  see  the  sky  and  sea  through  the  old  hulk 
anywhere.  Indeed,  the  wonder  was  that  the  quarter 
deck  did  not  fall  in.  The  ship  was  sinking  fast,  and 
the  pumps  would  not  free  her.  For  us,  our  jib-boom 
had  been  wrenched  off,  at  the  beginning  ;  our  main 
mast  and  mizzen-top  fell  as  we  struck,  and  at  day 
break  the  wreck  was  not  cleared  away.  Jones  put 
Lieutenant  Lunt  on  our  vessel  that  night,  but  the  next 


PAUL  JONES   AND   DENIS  DUVAL.  49 

day  he  removed  all  his  wounded,  and  finally  all  his 
people,  to  the  Serapis,  and  at  ten  the  Poor  Richard 
went  to  the  bottom.  I  have  always  wondered  that 
your  Naval  Commissioners  never  named  another  frig 
ate  for  her. 

"  And  so,  my  dear  boy,  I  will  stop.  I  hope  in  God 
it  will  never  be  your  fate  to  see  such  a  fight,  or  any 
fight  between  an  English  and  an  American  frigate. 

ci  We  drifted  into  Holland.  Our  wounded  men  were 
sent  into  hospital  in  the  fort  of  the  Texel.  At  last 
we  were  all  transferred  to  the  French  government  as 
prisoners,  and  that  winter  we  were  exchanged.  The 
Serapis  went  into  the  French  navy,  and  the  only  im 
portant  result  of  the  affair  in  history  was  that  King 
George  had  to  make  war  with  Holland.  For,  as  soon 
as  we  were  taken  into  the  Texel,  the  English  minister 
claimed  us  of  the  Dutch.  But  the  Dutch  gentlemen 
said  they  were  neutrals,  and  could  not  interfere  in  the 
Rebel  Quarrel.  '  Interfere  or  fight,'  said  England,  — 
and  the  first  clause  of  the  manifesto  which  makes  war 
with  Holland  states  this  grievance,  that  the  Dutch 
would  not  surrender  the  Serapis  when  asked  for. 
That  is  the  way  England  treats  neutrals  who  offer 
hospitality  to  rebels." 

So  ends  the  letter.     I  suppose  the  old  gentleman 

got  tired  of  writing.     I  have  observed  that  the  end  of 

all  letters  is  more  condensed  than  the  beginning.     Mr. 

Weller,  indeed,  pronounces  the  "  sudden  pull-up  "  to 

3  D 


50  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

be  the  especial  charm  of  letter- writing.  I  had  a  mind 
to  tell  what  the  old  gentleman  saw  of  Kempenfelt  and 
the  Royal  George,  but  this  is  enough.  As  Denis 
Duval  scrambles  across  to  Paul  Jones's  quarter-deck, 
at  eleven  o'clock  of  that  strange  moonlight  night,  he 
vanishes  from  history. 


ROUND    THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK. 


[Tnis  story  mostly  relates  to  a  period  early  in  Colonel  Ing- 
ham's  life,  although,  as  will  be  seen,  his  own  accurate  knowledge 
of  the  facts  came  a  generation  later.  It  is  necessary  to  observe 
to  readers  distant  from  Massachusetts  Bay,  that,  in  the  language 
of  that  country,  a  "  hack  "  is  a  hired  carriage,  not,  as  in  the  lan 
guage  of  Mr.  Todd,  "  a  horse  let  out  for  hire."  To  Dr.  Johnson, 
it  seems,  the  word  was  not  known  in  either  sense. 

The  story  was  first  printed  in  the  Atlantic  Almanac  for  1869.] 


IT  is  an  old  Boston  story.  One  would  never  tell  it 
at  a  dinner-party  here,  or  in  the  Evening  Transcript, 
because  in  Boston  everybody  knows  it  better  than 
you  know  it  yourself.  But  the  Atlantic  Almanac  goes 
to  Sceattle  and  Boothia  Felix,  which  is  your  excuse 
for  telling  it  in  these  pages  at  all. 

I  can  hear  Listen  growl  as  he  finds  that  seven  good 
pages  of  his  new  Atlantic  Almanac  are  consumed  by 
a  story  wrhich  everybody  heard  in  his  cradle,  or  should 
have  heard  there.  But,  dear  Liston,  all  babies  were 
not  lulled  by  an  east-wind,  and  all  school-boys  did  not 
wait  on  "  Johnny  Snelling  "  at  "  Mason  Street." 


52  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Let  it  be  understood,  then,  that  I  tell  the  story  for 
the  benefit  of  Sceattle,  of  Boothia  Felix,  and  of 
Assiut,  and  the  other  outlying  purchasers.  Let  it  be 
understood  that  it  is  a  story  of  a  generation  ago.  And 
if  any  of  the  inhabitants  here  do  not  like  the  way  I 
tell  it,  why,  let  them  tell  it  themselves,  only  do  not 
let  us  have  any  more  of  these  beastly  interruptions. 
How  shall  we  ever  get  on,  if  we  have  to  stop  all  the 
time  to  explain  ? 

I.  —  OF  JOSHUA  CRADOCK. 

A  generation  ago,  then,  kindest  of  naturalists  in 
Sceattle,  erst  my  fellow-laborer  in  the  infants  society 
of  naturalists  at  Worcester, —a  generation  ago,  O 
president  of  the  rising  college  of  those  parts,  —  a  gen 
eration  ago,  O  foreman  over  the  manufactory  of  teapots 
at  Assiut,  —  a  generation  ago  the  people  of  Boston 
liked  to  know  something.  I  fear  that  that  generation 
has  now  passed,  and  is  regarded  as  mythical.  What 
I  know  of  this  generation  is  this,  that  it  likes  to  be 
amused.  It  goes  into  raptures  as  well  as  any  genera 
tion  I  ever  heard  of.  It  even  knows  the  difference 
between  the  emotions  produced  on  it  by  the  overture 
to  the  second  act  of  La  Belle  HeUne,  and  that  of  the 
first  act  of  La  Duchesse.  But  I  do  not  find  that  it 
cares  so  much  about  being  instructed.  The  last  gen 
eration  did,  which  is,  perhaps,  my  dear  young  friend, 
the  cause  of  a  notable  difference  remarked  in  some 


ROUND   THE  WORLD   IN   A  HACK.  53 

circles  between  your  mother  and  yourself.  But  let 
that  go  !  The  consequence  was  that,  a  generation 
ago,  the  public  entertainment  of  Boston  was  found  in 
solid  lectures,  of  which  the  staple  was  instruction,  — 
instruction  given  in  good  faith,  from  those  who  knew 
to  those  who  did  not  know,  —  exactly  according  to 
the  advice  of  the  Dervish  Nasr  Eddin.  Do  not  ask 
me  for  that  story.  If  you  want  that  story,  take  ship, 
and  go  ask  the  Consul. 

So  it  was,  that,  one  evening  in  the  week,  if  you 
were  of  the  blue  blood  of  Boston,  you  went  to  the 
lecture-hall  of  the  Masonic  Temple,  the  same  spot  in 
space  where  we  boys  went  to  hear  Mr.  Hillard  defend 
a  pirate-boy  in  his  young  eloquence  —  "  And  Costa 
the  cabin-boy,  shall  he  die  ?  "  — and  where,  with  his 
manly  acumen,  he  now  convicts  any  pirates  who  may 
happen  to  be  brought  under  the  bar  of  the  law.  Thus 
we  change  !  I  say  you  went  once  a  week,  in  the 
evening,  to  this  amphitheatrical  lecture-room,  where 
about  five  hundred  of  the  very  nicest  people  in  the 
world  met  together,  and  there  you  were  instructed. 
John  Farrar,  most  entertaining  of  physicists,  taught 
you  of  the  steam-engine,  with  veritable  models  which 
worked,  — and  with  sections  which  he  worked,  whose 
valves  opened  and  shut  before  your  eyes.  John 
Webster  poured  acid  into  tall  glass  reservoirs  of 
litmus-water,  and  it  turned  red ;  and  then  he  poured 
in  ammonia,  and  it  turned  green.  George  Ticknor 
illustrated  Shakespeare.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  told 


54  THE  ESGHAM  PAPERS. 

of  Mahomet ;  Edward  Hitchcock  explained  as  much 
as  he  knew  about  the  crust  of  the  earth.  John  Pick 
ering  told  about  telegraphs  and  language ;  James 
Trecothick  Austin  gave  the  history  of  the  siege  of 
Boston  ;  Convers  Francis,  that  of  the  French  Hu 
guenots.  It  had  not  yet  occurred  to  any  man  boldly  to 
lecture  on  the  History  of  Form,  or  the  Form  of  His 
tory  ;  on  the  Substantiality  of  Shadows,  or  the  Shad 
ows  of  Substance ;  on  the  Decorum  of  Ideas,  or  the 
Ideas  of  Decorum.  The  formula  of  the  modern 
lecture  was  first  stated,  long  afterwards,  by  Starr  King. 
"  It  consists,"  said  he,  "  of  four  parts  of  sense  and 
five  parts  of  nonsense,  and  there  are  but  ten  men  in 
New  England  who  know  how  to  mix  the  two."  He 
was  chief  of  the  ten,  as  he  was  chief  everywhere  ! 
This  formula  had  not  then  been  discovered,  far  less, 
stated  ;  and,  as  I  say,  people  still  went  to  lectures  to 
be  informed. 

If,  now,  I  should  here  insert  a  long  excursus  on 
what  we  learned,  on  the  nice  girls  who  went  to  learn 
also,  and  the  very  nice  young  men  who  went,  par 
ticularly  on  the  cosy  family  way  in  which  the  fathers 
and  mothers  went  also  ;  and  then  how  you  all  went 
home  in  little  knots,  and  had,  after  the  whole,  a  few 
games  of  whist  (euchre  not  yet  known,  far  less  Bos 
ton),  and  then  some  hot  oysters  at  half  past  nine,  not 
in  a  disreputable  cellar,  but  brought  in  by  John,  on  a 
waiter,  into  the  drawing-room ;  and  how  you  laid 
down  the  cards,  while  Amanda  served  you  all  round, 


ROUND   THE   WORLD   IN   A  HACK.  55 

—  if,  I  say,  I  went  into  this  excursus,  the  editor 
would  score  it  all  out  of  the  manuscript ;  so  it  is  as 
well  not  to  write  it,  although  every  word  of  it  is 
essential  to  the  true  understanding  of  this  story. 

For  it  happened,  one  night,  that,  at  the  first  or 
second  lecture  of  an  excellent  course  on  astronomy,  at 
the  "  Useful  Knowledge,"  the  lecturer,  who  must 
have  been,  I  think,  Professor  Farrar,  made  the  expla 
nation,  since  then  not  unfrequent,  that  this  world  on 
which  we  live  is  round.  In  connection  with  the  phe 
nomena  of  eclipses,  he  had  some  excellent  illustra 
tions  ;  and  in  connection  with  summer,  winter,  day 
and  night,  he  had  more  ;  and  there  was  a  terrestrial 
globe,  and  on  the  globe,  I  think,  a  large  ship,  length 
several  degrees  of  latitude,  whose  topmasts  could  be 
distinctly  seen  by  a  wooden  man  with  a  spy-glass,  on 
a  distant  continent,  while  her  hull  was  still  far  below 
the  horizon.  By  way  of  illustration  and  entertain 
ment,  Mr.  Farrar,  if  it  were  he,  then  told  of  the  peo 
ple  who  had  sailed  around  the  world,  of  Magelhaens 
and  Captain  Cook,  and,  likely  enough,  alluded  to  Wil 
liam  Sturgis,  who  was  probably  present,  and  to  our 
rights  in  the  Columbia  River.  (Else,  dear  friends, 
how  would  you  be  in  Sceattle  in  this  living  1869  ?) 

The  lecture  was  excellent,  as  dear  John  Farrar's 
always  were.  The  little  clusters  of  people  made  them 
selves  up,  as  I  have  told,  Alice  with  Arthur,  not  arm 
in  arm,  following  after  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Paterfamilias ; 
and  Clara,  Dolly,  and  Emily  giggling  a  little  behind ; 


56  THE   IXGHAM  PAPERS. 

Fred  and  Grace,  in  like  manner,  decorously  following 
Mr.  Materfamilias  and  his  wife  ;  Horace,  Impey,  and 
John  following,  in  eager  discussion  as  to  whether  they 
would  make  their  electrical  machine  with  a  junk-bottle, 
or  try  to  persuade  the  boy  at  Brewer's  to  let  them 
have  for  forty-two  cents  a  cracked  cylinder  they  had 
there.  In  a  group  of  more  advanced  age,  Joshua 
Cradock  and  Mrs.  Champernoon  walked  up  Park 
Street,  and  old  Champernoon  with  Mrs.  Cradock,  and 
so  down  to  the  Cradocks'  house  in  Beacon  Street. 

It  was  one  of  those  comfortable  old  white  marble 
houses  on  the  south  side  of  Beacon  Street,  of  which  I 
think  there  were  none  left  the  last  time  I  was  there. 
It  was  but  a  short  walk  from  the  Temple,  but  that 
they  chose  to  go  up  Park  Street  with  the  lecturer  and 
his  party  ;  not  long,  however,  at  the  longest.  They 
came  home,  had  their  whist,  —  Mr.  Cradock  lost  all 
three  games,  which  was  unusual,  and,  as  the  Cham- 
pernoons  afterwards  thought,  was  a  little  silent  and 
meditative.  But  I  do  not  believe  they  ever  would 
have  thought  of  this,  had  they  ever  seen  his  face 
again. 

But  this  was  their  last  whist-party.  Seth  brought 
in  the  oysters,  with  a  decanter  of  old  Juno.  The 
Champernoons  declined  another  rubber,  and  went 
home. 

As  Joshua  Cradock  took  off  his  coat  and  vest  that 
night  (he  took  them  off  together,  not  being  of  He- 


ROUND   THE  WOULD   IN   A  HACK.  57 

brew  parentage),  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  Mary,  would 
not  you  like  to  go  round  the  world  ?  " 

"  O,  I  should  be  sea-sick,"  said  she  (inevitably  a 
woman's  first  answer). 

"  But  one  might  go  by  land,  Mary  ?  "  For  Cra- 
dock  was  not  a  Sturgis,  nor  a  Dorr,  a  Woodbridge, 
Hale,  or  Worcester.  He  was  in  no  sort  a  geographer. 
True,  he  descended,  I  suppose,  from  old  Matthew 
Cradock,  the  Moses  of  our  infant  State,  who,  from  the 
Pisgah  of  London  Town,  looked  across  the  howling 
Jordan  to  the  land  of  Medford,  —  milk  and  honey 
from  hollow  trees,  —  which,  alas !  he  never  saw. 
The  first  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Company 
was  he.  From  him  it  must  have  been  that  Joshua 
Cradock  inherited  the  adventurous  disposition  which 
lurked  in  him.  But  Joshua  had  been  educated  for 
and  in  the  produce  business.  When  he  tasted  a  cheese, 
he  knew  whether,  the  week  it  was  made,  the  Widow 
Somerby,  who  made  it,  had  had  visitors  or  no.  But 
he  did  not  know  over  what  parallels  of  latitude  the 
waves  were  flowing,  and  which  parallels  climbed  crests 
of  snow  as  they  ringed  in  the  solid  land.  He  knew 
of  the  hoops  of  firkins,  but  not  of  the  parallels  of  the 
earth.  So  he  suggested  to  Mary  that  they  might  go 
by  land. 

"  None  of  these  people  he  spoke  of  went  by  land," 
said   she,   meditatively,  —  "  neither  Captain  Sturgis, 
nor  Captain  Cook,  nor  the  other  man.     And  on  the 
globe  it  was  a  ship,  and  not  a  stage." 
3* 


58  THE  ENGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  I  think,"  said  Joshua  Craclock,  "  you  could  go  by 
land !  "     And  they  went  to  bed. 

Mrs.  Cradock  fortunately  remembered  this  conver 
sation   the  next  day  ;  not  that  Joshua  himself  alluded 
to  it.     They  came  down  to  breakfast,  —  poached  eggs, 
steak  rare,  fried  potatoes,  cold  hot-cakes,  and  hot  bread- 
cakes,  with  two  slices  of  toast  red-hot,  and  two  pats  of 
choice   Kinsman  butter,  a  special  present  from  Mrs. 
Kinsman  to  Mrs.  Cradock,  —  coffee  from  Java,  present 
from  Mr.  Balestier,  —  Seth  waiting,  —  breakfast  quiet 
and  protracted.     After  breakfast,  Mrs.  Cradock  went 
up  stairs  ;  Mr.  Cradock  did  not  go  out ;  read  his  Adver 
tiser,  skipped  Casimir  Perier's  speech,  skipped  protocol 
on  Polish  revolution,  skipped  Lord  Brougham's  address 
before  the  London  University,  read  the  price  of  hops, 
beans,  pot  and  pearl  ashes.    Then  he  rang  the  bell ;  sent 
Seth  to  Niles's  for  a  carriage,  and  bade  him  tell  Hitty 
to  go  up  stairs  for  his  valise.     Hitty  brought  down  the 
valise.     Mr.  Cradock   opened  the  lower  part  of  his 
bookcase,  and  took  out  three  little  leather  bags  tightly 
tied  ;  weight  of  each,  say,  ten  pounds.     These  three 
he  put  in  the  valise.     Seth  announced  the  hack.     Mr. 
Cradock  put  on  his   coat,  and,  from   the  foot  of  the 
stairs,   said,   "Good  by,   Molly.     "Good  by"   came 
down  stairs  on  a  high  key.     They  always  bade  each 
other  good  by.     But  when  Mr.  Cradock  said  good  by 
to  Seth,  and  bade  him  say  good  by  to  "  the  girls," 
Seth  was   surprised.     He   was   also  surprised  at  the 
weight  of  the  valise.     Excepting  for  these  surprises, 


BOUND   THE   WOKLD   IN  A  HACK.  59 

Mr.  Cradock's  departure  was  as  usual,  when  he  did 
not  choose  to  walk  to  North  Market  Street.  He  got 
into  the  carriage.  The  hackman  stood  a  moment  on 
the  sidewalk,  and  then  said,  respectfully,  "Where 
to,  sir?" 

And  Mr.  Cradock  answered, 

u  ROUND  THE  WORLD." 

So  the  hackman  mounted  the  box.  His  horses  were 
headed  up  the  street,  aimed,  indeed,  at  North  Market 
Street.  But  he  quickly  turned,  drove  down  Beacon 
Street  upon  the  Mill  Dam  ;  they  passed  the  toll-house 
without  stopping,  only  Mr.  Cradock  looked  out  pleas 
antly  at  the  keeper,  and  said  "  Cradock,"  and  this 
was  the  last  word  Boston  ever  heard  from  him  from 
that  day  to  this  day. 

That  is  the  way  I  have  always  heard  the  story  told. 
It  is  generally  told  to  illustrate  the  character  of  the 
Boston  hackman  of  the  best  school,  who  is  indeed  the 
superior  of  any  of  his  kind  I  have  ever  found  in  travel 
elsewhere,  save  in  Sybaris ;  nor  are  the  hackmen  of 
the  Sybarites  any  better  than  he.  He  is  a  wholly 
different  man  from  the  baggage-smasher  of  Babel, 
or  from  the  cabman  of  London.  When  he  takes  his 
summer  vacation,  you  meet  him  in  the  mountains  with 
his  wife  and  child,  as  much  a  gentleman  in  the  essen 
tials  as  you  are  yourself ;  and  for  non-essentials,  as  St. 
Augustine  says,  differing  from  you  in  that  he  drives  a 


60  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

better  horse,  and  drives  him  much  better  than  you 
would.  When  he  retires  from  business,  he  takes  a 
nice  house  back  in  some  mountain  valley,  and,  if  you 
visit  him,  he  will  give  you  his  views  of  your  old  friends, 
your  belles  and  your  beaux,  affected,  it  may  be,  by 
the  punctuality  with  which  they  left  their  parties ;  for 
the  hackman  likes  Cinderella  better  than  her  sisters. 
So,  for  that  matter,  did  the  Prince,  and  so  do  I. 

The  time  may  come  when  I  shall  have  the  leisure 
to  edit  what  I  have  by  me,  —  some  "  Passages  from 
the  Diary  of  a  Hackman."  But  I  do  not  propose  to 
edit  them  now,  but  to  stick  closely  to  this  story,  — 
which,  as  I  say,  is  generally  told  to  illustrate  the  char 
acter  of  the  high-toned  Boston  hackman  ;  how  he 
obeys  orders  without  quarrelling  with  you  or  squab 
bling  about  his  fare.  "  As  Cradock  said,  'Drive 
round  the  world,'  and  they  started."  That  is  the  way 
the  story  is  generally  told. 

But  the  story  does  not  properly  stop  there. 

II.  —  OF  MRS.  CRADOCK. 

Dinner-time  came  at  the  Cradocks'.  Oyster-soup, 
sirloin  of  beef,  —  the  second  cut,  —  boiled  apple-dump 
lings,  shag-barks  and  raisins,  almonds  and  dates ;  Juno 
again.  But,  as  you  know,  Mr.  Cradock  did  not  come. 
Mrs.  Cradock  had  been  down  in  Federal  Street,  to  take 
her  turn  at  visiting  at  the  Infant  School.  She  had 
called  on  Mrs.  Blowers  on  her  way  home.  She  had 


ROUND   THE   WORLD   IN  A   HACK.  61 

dressed  for  dinner,  and  at  ten  minutes  of  two  was  in 
the  parlor,  waiting  for  Joshua.  But,  as  I  said,  he  did 
not  come.  The  clock  struck  two ;  at  five  minutes  past 
she  sent  Seth  out  on  the  mall  to  see  Park  Street 
clock,  because  she  felt  sure  the  parlor  clock  was 
wrong.  Her  own  watch  had  stopped,  as  is  the  custom 
of  the  watches  of  the  more  powerful  sex.  But  Seth 
reported  that  the  parlor  clock  was  right,  as  it  always 
was.  Let  Mr.  Bond  alone  for  that.  At  fifteen  min 
utes  past  two  Mrs.  Cradock  went  to  the  window.  No 
Joshua  in  sight.  Then  she  rang  for  Seth  again. 

"  Did  not  Mr.  Cradock  order  a  carriage  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"  Yes,  m'm,  at  Niles's." 

"  Did  he  go  to  the  store  ?  " 

"  No,  m'm,  I  think  not." 

«  Why  not,  Seth  ?  " 

u  He  took  his  valise  with  him,  m'm.  Hitty  thought 
he  was  going  to  Providence,  m'm.  But  I  do  not 
think  he  was." 

"  Why  not,  Seth  ?  " 

"  Because  I  heard  him  speak  to  the  hackman,  m'm." 

"  And  what  did  he  say,  Seth  ?  " 

"  He  said,  '  Round  the  world.'  " 

Mrs.  Cradock  had  felt  it  in  her  bones  before.  All 
through  the  movements  of  the  children  at  the  Infant 
School  she  had  sat  hardly  conscious  whether  they 
were  in  the  first  position  or  the  second  ;  so  sorry  was 
she  that  she  had,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  refused 


62  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

to  Joshua  something  he  proposed.  So  seldom  did  he 
propose  anything  !  She  always  was  glad  to  get  him 
away  from  that  horrid  store.  And  now,  when  he  had 
hinted  at  going  away,  she  had  thrown  cold  water  on 
the  plan.  She  had  said  she  should  be  sea-sick.  What 
if  she  were  ?  —  better  be  sea-sick  than  heart-sick ; 
better  be  sea-sick  with  Joshua  than  land-sick  alone. 
All  the  time  Mrs.  Blowers  had  been  telling  her  about 
the  cook's  impudence  and  the  second  girl's  marriage, 
she  had  been  thinking,  how,  at  dinner,  she  would 
bring  up  the  plan  of  going  round  the  world.  She  had 
thought  what  she  would  wear.  She  would  wear  that 

o 

brown  merino  that  Mr.  Cradock  had  bought  for  her 
at  Whitaker's.  He  had  bought  it,  and  it  would  wear 
well.  She  would  only  take  the  small  black  trunk ; 
and  in  the  bottom  of  it,  for  summer  wear,  she  would 
put  in  that  dress-pattern  of  seersucker  which  she  had 
never  made  up.  When  she  came  home,  she  had  told 
Hannah  to  have  the  cranberries  strained  for  dinner, 
so  as  to  make  it  seem  more  like  a  feast,  and  she  had 
even  had  the  best  knives  and  forks  put  on,  because 
he  would  notice  that.  And  now  it  was  too  late.  If 
only  she  had  said  "  Yes  !  "  Now  he  was  gone  !  Poor 
Mrs.  Cradock  ! 

"  Then  we  will  not  wait  any  longer,  Seth.  You 
can  bring  up  dinner." 

She  did  not  say  anything  more.  Silent  women 
those  Ipswich  Brewsters,  I  have  always  noticed,  when 
they  were  moved,  —  silent,  but  not  the  less  decided. 
It  must  be  the  old  Elder's  blood. 


ROUND   THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK.  63 

She  ate  her  beef  alone,  and  pretended  to  eat  cran 
berry.  But  Seth.  was  not  deceived.  He  knew  she 
did  not  touch  it.  The  table  was  cleared,  and  she  ate 
her  apple-pudding.  Cleared  again,  and  she  had  nuts 
and  raisins  on  her  plate.  Then  she  rang  up  Seth 
again. 

"  Were  they  good  horses,  Seth  ?  " 

"  The  best  Niles  has,  m'm,  —  the  bay  team  you  had 
last  Monday." 

"  Then  you  need  not  go  to  Niles's  this  afternoon. 
Go  down  to  Fullum's,  in  Bowdoin  Square.  Tell  him 
I  want  a  carriage  at  four ;  and,  Seth,  see  that  he  gives 
us  good  horses.  I  am  going  round  the  world,  Seth, 
after  Mr.  Cradock.  Would  you  like  to  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,  m'm,"  said  Seth.  And  that  is  the  way  he 
came  to  go. 

"  Mr.  Cradock  never  drives  after  dark,  Seth.  I 
think  if  we  drive  late  in  the  evening,  we  shall  catch 
him  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  Yes,  m'm,"  said  Seth. 

And  Mrs.  Cradock  went  up  stairs,  and  packed  the 
little  black  trunk.  She  put  the  seersucker  in  the  bot 
tom.  She  put  in  the  diamond  necklace  her  husband 
gave  her  the  day  they  had  been  married  twenty-five 
years.  She  took  the  pocket-book  which  kept  the 
quarter's  housekeeping.  She  put  in  her  Bible,  and 
"  Taylor's  Holy  Living  and  Dying,"  and  the  "  Se 
lections  from  Fenelon."  Then  she  put  in  Mr. 
Cradock's  best  coat,  which  she  found  he  had  left, 


64  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

and  some  articles  of  apparel  whose  names  I  do  not 
know. 

She  put  on  the  brown  merino  from  Whitaker's. 

At  four  the  hack  came.  Seth  put  the  trunk  on  the 
driver's  seat.  The  driver  shut  Mrs.  Cradock  in  ;  and, 
like  the  other  driver,  said,  "  Where  to  ?  " 

"  Round  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Cradock  ;  and  the 
driver  mounted  by  Seth's  side,  and  they  started. 

Niles's  were  good  horses,  but  these  were  better. 
Seth  had  understood  his  commission.  Perhaps  he 
gave  the  driver  a  hint  that  a  stern  chase  was  a  long 
chase.  They  took  a  good  pace  from  the  beginning, 
and  they  held  it.  They  drove  faster  than  Joshua  did, 
I  know,  for  I  have  both  journals  before  me  at  this 
moment.  But  they  did  not  catch  him.  It  was  a 
misfortune,  —  but  they  did  not  catch  him.  And  this 
was  the  reason. 

Seth  had  observed  that  Niles's  horses  headed  up  the 
street  when  they  started  and  he  shut  the  house-door. 
That  was  all  he  knew.  So,  when  Mrs.  Cradock  said 
"  Round  the  world,"  Seth  bade  her  driver  push  boldly 
by  the  corner  of  Park  Street.  They  passed  the  Thorn- 
dike  house,  the  Bean's  and  the  D wight's,  struck  Han 
over  Street  and  Winnissimet  Ferry  ;  and,  with  a  feel 
ing  they  must  continue  east,  crossed  to  Chelsea  and 
the  Salem  turnpike.  And  when,  that  evening,  after 
a  very  hard  push,  Mr.  Cradock  stopped  at  six,  at  the 
sign  of  Neptune,  on  Shrewsbury  Hill,  Mrs.  Cradock 
was  just  driving  out  of  Lynn.  And  her  persever- 


ROUND   THE   WOELD   IN  A  HACK.  65 

ance  in  keeping  on  till  near  eleven  o'clock,  which 
brought  her  even  to  the  Wolfe  tavern  at  Newburyport, 
only  separated  her  twenty  odd  miles  farther  from  her 
husband  than  if  she  had  stopped  when  he  did.  Ah 
me  !  it  was  worse  than  Evangeline.  For  she,  at  least, 
was  staying  still  while  Gabriel  sailed  by  her.  But 
this  man  and  this  woman,  under  two  motives,  were 
going  farther  from  each  other  with  every  differential 
of  every  revolution  of  their  wheels. 

Palmer,  on  the  west,  and  Saco,  on  the  east,  marked 
their  stopping-places  of  the  second  night ;  but,  the 
third  day,  one  of  Mrs.  Cradock's  horses  was  amiss. 
She  was  fain  to  dine  at  Portland,  and  spend  the  night 
there. 

Seth,  I  need  not  say,  made  inquiries  from  day  to 
day  in  the  stables.  In  the  forgotten  days  of  travel, 
when  there  were  stables  connected  with  inns,  the  peo 
ple  in  the  parlors  knew  nothing  of  what  wTas  passing 
till  the  people  from  the  stables  came  in  and  told  them. 
Seth  got  information  at  Portland,  and  came  and  told 
Mrs.  Cradock,  as  she  sat  over  her  nuts  and  raisins 
again,  that  "  they  said  "  the  best  way  round  the  world 
was  to  go  by  sea.  Seth  was  an  implicit  believer  in 
Mrs.  Grundy,  only,  like  most  persons  bred  in  a 
democratic  country,  he  personified  her  as  a  noun 
of  multitude.  What  "  they  said  "  — the  voice  of  the 
people  —  was  to  Seth  indeed  as  the  very  voice  of  God. 

To  Mrs.  Cradock  his  remark  was  a  sad  one.  It  was 
only  just  what  she  had  said  only  three  short  days 


66  THE   IXGHAM   PAPERS. 

before.     And  what  wretchedness  of  separation  had 
sprung  from  her  saying  it ! 

"  Do  they  say  so,  Seth  ?  "  said  she,  sadly.  "  I 
said  so  once." 

"  Yes,  m'm.  They  say  there  's  oceans  of  people 
as  goes  round  the  world  every  year  ;  but  they  goes  in 
ships,  —  thousands  on  'em.  They  call  'em  '  whalers.' 
They  goes  for  sperm  oil  and  whalebone.  Richardson 
keeps  the  best,  We  always  has  Richardson's." 

"  I  know  you  can  go  by  water,  Seth.  But  Mr. 
Cradock  preferred  to  go  by  land.  They  have  not 
heard  of  Mr.  Cradock,  —  have  they  ?  " 

"  All  of  'em's  heard  on  him,  m'm.  There  is  not  a 
shop-keeper  in  the  place  but  has  heard  on  him.  But 
none  on  them  has  seen  him,  nor  knew  he  was  trav 
elling." 

"  I  thought  you  did  not  inquire  for  him  at  the  last 
toll-gate,  Seth  ?  " 

But  Seth  declared  he  did.  Mrs.  Cradock's  faith 
that  they  should  overtake  him  held  firm,  though  she 
was  surprised  that,  while  they  paid  toll  steadily  down 
the  old  turnpike,  no  one  had  seen  Mr.  Cradock's 
carriage,  nor  had  they  gained  any  clue  to  him  at  one 
of  the  inns.  Yet  her  faith  did  not  waver,  and  she  still 
said,  "  We  will  go  by  land.  " 

And  the  next  morning  Seth  heated  her  soap-stones, 
folded  round  her  a  handsome  bear-skin  he  had  found 
in  a  furrier's  shop  :  u  The  best  skin  they  is  in  the 
State ;  keeps  out  cold,  they  say,  five  hundred  times 


ROUND   THE   WORLD   IN   A   HACK.  67 

better  than  them  buffaloes  ;  they  say  the  Indians 
makes  them."  He  substituted  a  fur  cap  for  the  stove 
pipe  with  which  he  had  started,  and  again  they  pressed 
Down  East.  The  same  morning  Mr.  Cradock  left  the 
little  tavern  at  Chester  Factories,  and  began  to  pull 
up  the  hills.  He  was  already  on  runners ;  but  Mrs. 
Cradock,  as  it  happened,  did  not  have  to  take  them 
till  she  came  to  Bangor.  There  she  lay  by  three  or 
four  days  in  her  first  heavy  snow-storm.  She  lost  no 
courage,  however.  "  If  it  stops  me,  it  will  stop  him," 
she  said ;  and,  after  the  roads  were  broken  out,  she 
started  again. 

But  this  is  not  a  diary  of  her  journey  nor  of  his  ;  for 
I  do  not  think  it  would  be  fair  to  print  either  his  diary 
or  hers.  I  will  tell  you,  before  I  have  done,  how  I 
came  to  have  them.  Her  journey  of  that  winter  was 
her  hardest,  —  harder,  as  it  happened,  than  his.  It 
was  but  a  slow  journey  too,  —  for  Seth  was  very  care 
ful,  and  not  over  bold  ;  if  the  weather  were  too  cold,  he 
invented  endless  reasons  why  they  should  not  go  on. 
Who  does  not  know  how  completely  a  traveller  is  in 
his  courier's  hands  ?  —  most  of  all  when  that  traveller 
is  a  woman,  innocent  of  geography,  and  without  a 
guide-book  ;  and,  if  that  courier  have  always  managed 
her  household,  hard  for  her  indeed  !  A  horrid  busi 
ness  they  had  pulling  across  from  Bangor  to  Eastport. 
And  there  Seth  made  a  long  stop.  Once  and  again  he 
suggested  the  ocean  experiment.  But  Mrs.  Cradock 
answered,  as  before,  that  Mr.  Cradock  proposed  to  go 


68  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

by  land,  till  she  had  come  to  the  very  end  of  the  pe 
ninsula  of  Nova  Scotia,  had  bravely  crossed  the  Gut  of 
Canso  to  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  drove  into  hospi 
table  Sydney,  and  there  looked  eastward  on  the  sea. 
How  should  she  go  by  land  now  ? 

For  my  part,  I  should  be  well  pleased,  if,  as  she  had 
hoped,  she  had  found  Mr.  Cradock  also  sea-bound  in 
Sydney,  and  if  this  story  had  ended  there.  I  do  not 
know  if  there  is  better  place  for  a  story  to  end  than 
there,  where  so  many  stories  have  begun.  Is  it  the 
eastern  point  of  a  southeastern  branch  of  the  Lauren- 
tian  hills  ?  Then  it  is,  if  I  understand  Agassiz,  the 
first  spot  of  this  world  that  lifted  itself  above  the  hot 
water. 

"  When  the  young  sun  revealed  the  glorious  scene 
Where  oceans  gathered,  and  where  fields  grew  green." 

A  good  deal  began  when  that  bit  of  lowland  beach  first 
put  its  nose  for  air  above  the  brine  !  And  so  a  good 
many  hundred  million  of  years  afterwards  (ask  Darwin 
and  Lesley  how  many),  when  "  the  time  was  come  " 
for  John  Cabot  and  his  son  to  open  up  North  America 
to  England  and  to  the  world,  this  same  old  shore  was 
the  "  New-Found-Land  "  that  peered  out  from  the  fog 
to  them  on  St.  John's  morning.  Not  the  island  of 
Newfoundland,  but  Cape  Breton.  So  Mr.  Deane  tells 
me,  and,  if  he  does  not  know,  nobody  does.  A  good 
deal  began  then  ;  and  so  if  you  want  to  get  either  to 
the  beginning  of  all  things  American,  or  to  the  veritable 
jumping-off  place  either,  you  may  go  to  Sydney.  And 


ROUND   THE   WORLD   IN  A  HACK.  69 

are  there  not  some  such  charming  people  there  ?  And 
do  I  not  wish  I  was  there  at  this  living  moment  when 
I  write  these  words  ?  A  good  place  to  celebrate  St. 
John's  day  !  Here,  at  all  events,  Mrs.  Cradock  came, 
and  found,  of  course,  that  she  could  travel  east  in  a 
hackney-coach  no  longer.  "  Nothing,  madam,  but  the 
sea  between  you  and  Ireland,"  as  the  native  guides  say 
so  proudly  on  so  many  sea-shores. 

"  And  has  no  one  seen  Mr.  Cradock,  Seth  ?  "  No: 
no  one  had  seen  him.  How  should  they  ?  Mr.  Cra 
dock  had  arrived  that  night,  after  a  good  many  chances 
and  crosses,  at  his  fourth  station  in  the  prairies  west 
of  Detroit.  He  had  been  welcomed  by  a  stray  Cana 
dian  who  had  made  himself  a  log-cabin  there  the  year 
before.  Neither  of  them  could  understand  a  word  of 
the  other's  language.  But  in  that  cabin  he  stayed  till 
the  frost  of  that  winter  was  wholly  out  of  the  ground. 

III.  _  OF  HIM. 

I  asked  dear  old  Robert  Owen  once  what  we  should 
all  do,  when  he  had  the  whole  world  successfully  di 
vided  off  into  "  Family  Unions  "  of  2,500  people  each, 
—  all  the  Peruvians,  Patagonians,  Chinchillas,  and 
Cattarauguses  happily  ordered  under  the  same  order 
of  society,  each  with  its  own  cotton-factory  and  its  own 
lyceum,  —  and  all  the  babies  nursed  in  central  nurseries 
by  the  most  approved  system,  with  night-gowns  worn 
in  the  daytime  all  cut  by  one  cosmopolitan  standard. 


70  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  What  shall  we  all  do,  when  the  world  is  well  ad 
justed?"  asked  I. 

And  the  dear  old  man's  face  beamed  with  a  happy 
smile  of  transfiguration,  as  he  thus  contemplated  the 
new  mathematical  paradise,  grateful  to  me  for  recog 
nizing  its  possibility,  even  by  conjecture ;  and  he 
answered,  u  Do  ?  we  will  travel!  " 

There  is  a  good  deal  in  it.  When  education  has 
completed  itself  at  home,  travel  is  a  first-rate  univer 
sity  ;  and  the  poor,  stunted  freshman  of  Life  College, 
who  at  first  dares  not  say  his  soul  is  his  own,  or,  if  he 
dares,  says  what  is  not  true,  after  a  little  travel  through 
the  different  courses  of  this  beneficent  Alma  Mater's 
direction,  —  proceeds  "  Bachelor  at  Arts." 

That  means,  he  gets  "  the  power  of  speaking  as  often 
as  anybody  asks  him  to," — a  very  great  power,  as  I 
have  observed  men.*  A  few  years  more  of  travel,  and 
he  is  "  Master  of  Arts,"  which  means,  he  receives  the 
power  of  professing  that  he  is  acquainted  with  things, 
if  anybody  asks  him.  This  power,  as  the  world  goes, 
is  also  a  considerable  one.f 

Many  is  the  well-trained  Bostonian  who  will  admit 
that  a  course  of  travel  of  much  less  compass  than 
Joshua  Cradock's  has  opened  his  eyes  mightily  to  the 

*  "Cum  privilegio  publice  praelegendi,  quotiescumque  ad  hoc 
munus,  cvocati  fueritis."  These  are  the  words  which  accompany  a 
Bachelor's  degree. 

t  "  Cum  privilegio  publice  profitendi,  quotiescumque  ad  hoc  munus 
evocati  fueritis."  These  make  one  a  Master  of  Arts,  if  spoken  with 
authority. 


ROUND  THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK.         71 

size  of  the  world  and  to  his  own  duty  and  place  in  it. 
And  Joshua  Cradock,  as  I  remember  this  experience 
of  his  life,  stands  out  to  me,  not  as  a  disappointed  ad 
venturer  following  a  phantom,  ruined  by  his  own  igno 
rance,  and  homeless  because  too  proud  to  make  in 
quiry  in  time  ;  but  rather  as  a  true,  brave  man,  who, 
in  his  narrow  life  at  home,  found  one  chance  for  an 
outlook  on  the  larger  world,  used  that  chance,  and  was 
himself  changed  in  the  using,  and  so  saved,  —  con 
verted.  He  was  faithful  in  such  little  duty  as  he  had 
in  North  Market  Street ;  but  he  did  not  make  the  one 
great  mistake  of  thinking  that  duty  was  all.  In  his 
ignorance,  even,  of  the  world  without,  there  seemed 
to  open  to  him  a  chance  for  enlarging  his  study  of  it, 
and  that  chance  he  took  ;  because  he  took  it,  his  life 
also  became  what  it  did,  and  he  knew  the  honors,  if 
he  knew  the  sufferings,  of  a  true,  unselfish  child  of 
God. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  I  can  unravel  all  his 
journal ;  it  was  kept  originally  in  a  book  ruled  for  a 
ledger,  of  which  one  end  had,  in  fact,  been  used  for 
posting  the  book-accounts  of  some  customers  of  his  in 
some  early  adventure.  Mixed  right  up  with  the  diary 
are  memoranda  of  accounts,  draughts  of  letters,  one 
sketch  of  a  speech  he  made  to  some  Indians  on  the 
Plains,  a  very  curious  and  original  calculation  of  the 
longitude  from  his  notes  of  the  great  lunar  eclipse  of 
1832,  and  I  know  not  what  beside.  In  the  first  win 
ter,  as  I  said,  he  came  as  far  as  Michigan ;  but  then 


72  THE  INGHAM  PAPEKS. 

mud  stopped  him,  who  had  not  faltered  before  snow. 
The  journal,  brief  like  all  journals,  when  there  was 
anything  to  tell,  becomes,  like  other  journals,  voluble 
when  he  had  nothing  to  do.  Evidently  he  fascinated  the 
Canadian's  children.  He  taught  them  to  read  and 
write,  and  to  talk  English  ;  and  Hubert,  the  oldest  of 
them,  held  to  him  for  years  afterwards. 

Farther  on,  when  they  had  worked  along  to  the 
southern  end  of  Lake  Michigan,  there  are  the  traces 
of  a  long  stay  he  made  there,  in  which  he  must  have 
devoted  himself  to  the  fortunes  of  the  new  slab  city  of 
Rochambeau.  Rochambeau  has  gone  to  its  reward 
before  now,  — at  least  I  cannot  find  it  on  the  map,  far 
less  on  the  spot,  —  but  here  was  Cradock,  learned  in 
the  lumber  trade,  disentangling  those  poor  settlers  from 
the  snares  into  which  they  had  been  led  by  a  sort  of 
Dousterswivel  who  gloried  in  the  name  of  Dodwell, 
and  making  clear  to  them  how  they  were  to  get  their 
timber  at  fair  rates ;  nay,  waiting  there  till  the  first 
cargo  came ;  if,  in  fact,  he  did  not  himself  command  the 
craft  that  bore  it.  Here  he  lost  or  gained  a  great  deal 
of  time ;  and,  indeed,  all  the  slowness  of  his  Western 
progress  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  his  determination  to 
see  wrong  righted  in  many  such  an  enterprise.  At 
last,  after  the  burning  of  the  prairies,  or  before,  or  at 
the  possible  time,  whenever  that  was,  —  Flagg  and 
Staples  and  the  rest  of  them  will  explain  to  you,  —  he 
struck  the  Mississippi  quite  low  down,  got  his  craft  on 
a  steamer  which  was  exploring  the  upper  river,  then 


ROUND   THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK.  73 

so  little  known,  made  some  northing,  and  then,  in  the 
freshness  of  one  early  spring,  they  pushed  across,  he  and 
the  faithful  driver  and  Hubert,  by  the  Great  Pipe 
Rock  to  the  upper  Missouri.  From  that  time  it  is 
wild  adventure  indeed.  The  getting  the  carriage 
through  was  of  course  now  a  mere  piece  of  pride. 
But  they  had  all  the  time  there  was.  They  concili 
ated  all  those  roving  tribes,  even  of  Yellow-Stones. 
Who  in  this  world  does  not  such  a  man  as  Cradock 
conciliate  ?  and  there  is  something  racy  in  the  tri 
umph  with  which  he  announces  the  running  of  suc 
cessive  canons  as  they  work  down  what  I  suppose  to 
have  been  Lewis's  River. 

"  October  27. —  Fair,  —  water  not  so  high,  but  high 
enough.  Sighted  the  wheels  to-day,  after  a  good  deal 
of  doubt  whether  they  had  not  passed  in  the  night. 

Hubert  lassoed  the  raft  and  hauled  it  in.     All  rio-ht. 

& 

"  October  28,  6  A.  M.  — Rainy,  —  cleared  afterwards. 
Started  the  old  booby  (by  this  name  the  carriage-body 
has  been  called  for  some  months)  at  six,  and  the 
wheels  at  eight,  following  with  Hubert  still  on  the 
south  side.  Lost  sight  of  the  little  raft  at  once ;  but 
there  is  a  red  hide  trails  behind  the  big  raft,  which  we 
saw  on  the  foam  for  half  a  mile.  Road  on  the  south 
side  very  hard,  but  this  pony  would  go  anywhere. 

"  October  29.  —  Fair.  Did  not  make  two  miles. 
Vorse  must  have  gone  some  other  way.  If  he  did 
not,  we  shall  never  see  the  booby  again. 

"  October  30.  —  Rain   with    thunder.     Dead   lost. 


74  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

After  a  day's  work,  struck  the  river  half  a  mile  above 
last  night's  camp ! 

"  October  31.  —  Rain.  Found  the  trail.  Pushed 
twenty  miles  and  came  into  camp.  Vorse  had  made 
a  good  fire,  and  had  biscuits  baking.  Best  of  all,  he 
had  sighted  both  rafts  in  the  back-water  yesterday,  and 
had  hauled  them  both  in.  They  are  floating  just  off 
shore  now.  The  Mission  is  only  two  hundred  miles 
below." 

At  this  Mission  I  suppose  they  spent  that  winter ; 
for  it  is  not  till  the  4th  of  July  of  next  year  that  I 
find  them  in  Walrussia,  spending  that  day  in  Sitka. 
And  this  man,  who  left  his  home  simply  an  honest 
produce  merchant,  who  had  tried  hard  to  believe  that 
the  Boston  schools  were  the  only  schools,  the  Boston 
streets  the  only  streets,  the  Boston  newspapers  the 
only  newspapers,  and  the  Boston  Society  for  promot 
ing  Useful  Knowledge  the  only  possible  society,  — 
this  man  had,  since  he  left  Boston,  taught  one  Western 
town  how  to  save  its  children's  children  from  epidemic 
in  reorganizing  their  drainage  ;  had  watched  in  another 
through  all  the  horrors  of  a  relapse  of  the  first  cholera 
invasion  ;  had  attended  to  that  little  matter  of  the 
lumber  at  Rochambeau  ;  had  made  certainly  two 
treaties,  and  I  know  not  how  many  more,  between 
squabbling  tribes  of  Indians,  who,  but  for  him,  would 
have  cut  their  throats,  —  and  here  at  Sitka,  at  last,  he 
gives  a  public  dinner  to  the  Russian  Governor  and  the 
agents  of  the  North  American  Company,  to  Captain 


ROUND   THE   WORLD   IN  A  HACK.  75 

Taganoff  and  the  other  naval  officers  in  port,  and 
actually  makes  them  a  speech  in  French  (acquired 
from  Hubert),  on  the  relations  between  the  two  great 
powers  which  divide  the  northern  zones.  Mr.  Seward 
would  like  to  print  that  speech  in  the  archives  of 
Alaska. 

IV.  —  OF  LAKE  BAIKAL,  OR  THE  SEA  so  CALLED. 

For  myself,  the  way  I  came  to  have  these  papers  be 
fore  me,  and  to  be  able  to  tell  you  what  Seth  and 
the  rest  said  and  did,  and  what  they  did  not  do,  is 
easily  told. 

In  one  of  the  inter-acts  of  the  drama  of  a  some 
what  varied  life,  I  had  taken  the  contract  for  laying 
the  Inter- Hemispheric  wire,  on  the  fourth  section  of 
the  Siberian  Telegraph  Division,  and  this  led  me  to 
spend  the  better  part  of  two  years  not  far  from  the 
Chinese  Wall,  between  Krasnoyarsk  and  Yakoutsk. 
Properly  speaking,  our  part  of  the  line  began  at  Kras 
noyarsk,  though,  for  reasons  I  need  not  name  here, 
we  took  from  Section  3  one  hundred  and  eleven  wersts 
this  side  of  that  place,  beginning  at  Post  Station  87. 
The  first  time  I  went  over  my  line,  in  company  with 
my  dear  friend  Bolkhorinitoff  of  the  Imperial  engineers, 
the  country  was  as  new  to  me  as  it  is  to  you,  dear 
reader.  And  then  came  that  delicious  first  visit  at 
Irkutsk,  where  every  visit  has  been  so  delicious.  Is 
there  any  traveller  who  does  not  bless  the  Mouravieffs 
with  a  full  heart,  and  remember  them  every  night 


76  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

as  he  puts  his  head  on  the  pillow  ?  Well,  we  had  all 
the  fun  there,  —  such  coasting  as  there  is  not  in  all 
Russia  beside,  nor  even  in  New  Bedford.  Dancing, 
music,  —  what  did  we  not  have  that  was  charming  in 
a  wilderness  ?  We  arranged  our  head-quarters  there, 
and  then  with  Bolkhorinitoff  I  pushed  on  to  determine 
the  eastern  line. 

Of  course  there  must  be  a  station  at  Irkutsk.  It  is 
the  capital  of  Eastern  Siberia.  Beyond  that  was  the 
question.  I  was  rather  for  clinging  to  the  Chinese 
frontier,  and  carrying  it  right  through  Kiachta.  But 
the  reader  will  understand  that  the  difficulty  was  with 
Lake  Baikal.  Before  the  ice  broke  up,  we  pushed 
across  once  to  Posolskoi,  and  so  down  to  Kiachta  on 
the  snow,  and  back  again.  A  magnificent  expedition 
it  is.  You  have  the  best  horses  I  ever  rode  behind, 
and  you  know  and  they  know  what  is  the  wager  as 
you  cross  the  ice.  You  leave  and  they  leave  the  west 
ern  shore  at  ten  in  the  morning.  You  are  on  ice 
which  is  so  clear  that  you  cannot  believe  you  are  stand 
ing  on  anything;  —  thick,  who  knows  how  thick? 
On  — -  on  —  you  push  across,  are  turned  here  by  a 
ridge  which  has  formed  itself  after  some  storm,  get 
the  eastern  line  there,  holding  your  landmark  in  sight 
steadily,  —  on  and  on  —  seventy-five  wersts,  —  fifty 
miles,  — 'you  have  driven  in  four  hours,  with  the  ther 
mometer  at  the  point  of  frozen  mercury  !  That  is  a 
good  match  against  time  for  you,  and  the  stakes  are 
worth  considering. 


ROUND  THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK.        77 

If  only  the  ice  would  last  all  through  the  year, 
there,  of  course,  would  the  wire  go,  but  for  six  months 
this  sea  of  glass,  dear  Mr.  Calvin,  is  a  sea  of  water ; 
and  where  shall  our  wires  go  then  ?  We  went  to 
Kiachta,  came  back  round  the  southern  end  of  the 
lake,  and  were  dissatisfied. 

Bolkhorimtoff  and  I  agreed  that,  as  soon  as  the 
navigation  was  opened,  he  should  go  north  by  post  on 
the  west  side,  I  would  go  up  by  boat  over  the  lake  to 
Nofpo  Staun,  —  a  new  place  which  none  of  them  had 
seen,  at  the  very  northeastern  point,  —  we  would  meet 
there,  and  see  if  the  lake  might  not  be  doubled  better 
on  the  northward.  The  lake,  (Heaven  forgive  me, 
I  have  called  it  so  three  times !)  I  mean  the  sea,  is, 
you  see,  as  long  as  Lake  Superior. 

So,  when  we  got  into  May,  poor  Bolkhorinitoff  left 
me  ;  and  early  in  June  I  went  down  to  the  sea,  —  it 
is  forty  miles  from  Irkutsk,  —  and  chartered  a  queer 
craft  for  the  voyage.  She  had  just  come  in  with 
omully,  or  omoule',  the  herring  of  that  region.  She 
smelt  of  the  cargo  after  it  was  gone,  as  vases  do  of 
attar.  I  made  friends  with  the  skipper,  and  had  a 
chance  to  learn  to  speak  "  Russia-in-Asia,"  if  I  had 
never  had  it  before  ;  for  we  were  windbound  there 
ten  days.  He  did  not  want  to  beat  to  windward,  and,' 
after  I  knew  better,  I  did  not  want  to  either. 

The  Irkutsk  people  say  that  no  man  knows  how  to 
pray  from  his  heart  till  he  has  been  on  the  Baikal  Sea 
in  autumn.  I  can  understand  the  proverb  very  well 


78  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

from  my  experience  of  that  spring.  We  stayed  in 
shore  for  ten  days,  the  skipper  and  I  playing  a  detest 
able  form  of  sledge  on  the  villanous  pack  of  Russian 
cards  he  had,  whiling  away  time  by  his  teaching  and 
my  learning  to  talk  "  Russia-in-Asia,"  as  I  said,  and  I 
working  up  my  journal  with  some  notes  I  have  never 
published,  on  the  traces  of  Sandemanianism  in  the 
architecture  of  the  parish  churches  of  the  Ural.  At 
last  we  got  to  sea,  —  and  such  a  sea  ! 

It  is  from  forty  to  sixty  miles  wide.  It  is  certainly 
five  hundred  miles  long.  When  the  wind  blows  the 
wrong  way,  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  get  out 
and  wait,  if  you  can.  But  sometimes  you  cannot,  the 
conditions  being  severe.  We  started  too  soon ;  the 
wind  hauled  round  into  the  northeast  when  we  were 
thirty  miles  off-shore,  and  we  had  to  take  it,  cold  and 
heavy,  —  very  cold  and  very  heavy. 

With  the  help  of  my  dictionary  I  asked  the  skipper 
if  there  were  no  shelter  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake, 
thinking  we  might  claw  a  little  to  windward,  and  gain 
something  in  distance.  I  was  amazed  as  he  begged 
me  to  be  still ;  —  if  I  could  say  nothing  better  than 
that,  to  say  nothing ;  and,  somewhat  snubbed,  I  went 
below.  After  the  gust  was  over,  he  apologized.  I 
had  called  the  Baikal  "  osero"  a  lake,  instead  of 
"  more"  a  sea.  Now  this  was  an  insult  to  the  ruling 
powers.  He  told  me  with  perfect  seriousness,  that  an 
ungodly  fellow,  years  ago,  swore  it  was  a  lake,  and 
lake  it  should  be  called.  So  he  called  it  "  a  lake." 


ROUND   THE   WORLD  IN  A  HACK.  79 

44  But,"  whispered  the  skipper,  "  whichever  way  that 
man  sailed,  the  wind  was  always  against  him.  Six 
weeks,  two  months,  it  blew  always  ahead  ;  no  matter 
how  he  tacked,  the  wind  tacked  too ;  till  at  last  he 
swore  a  terrible  oath,  and  said  it  was  a  sea,  and  should 
be  a  sea ;  and,  before  the  words  were  well  out  of  his 
mouth,  the  fog  lifted  and  he  was  on  shore." 

I  told  the  skipper  coolly  that  this  must  be  a  Dutch 
man  ;  and  he  said  he  was ;  —  quite  innocent  of  my 
satire.  And  I  found  the  story  afterwards  in  Gmelin's 
Travels.  He  tells  it  of  a  countryman  of  his.  This 
was  the  reason  the  skipper  wanted  me  to  mind  my  ^>'s 
and  q's  as  I  talked  upon  such  risky  water. 

I  confess  I  had  some  sentiment  all  this  time.  Have 
not  you  a  sentimental  feeling  about  some  parallels  of 
latitude  and  meridians  of  longitude  ?  Yes  ?  well,  so 
have  I,  —  a  great  deal  of  it.  Here  is  this  dear  old 
meridian  of  71°  runs  right  through  Boston  Harbor. 
I  feel  as  if  I  could  kiss  it  every  time  I  cross  it  on 
Hough's  Neck,  and  I  walk  my  horse  if  I  drive  over  it 
on  the  Salem  turnpike.  Do  you  wonder  at  Wendell 
Phillips's  interest  in  Toussaint  ?  Why,  the  meridian 
of  Boston  crosses  the  middle  of  Hayti !  how  can  a 
Boston  boy  help  feeling  himself  at  home  there  ?  And 
I  never  wondered  why  they  thought  Valparaiso  was 
the  Valley  of  Paradise,  when  they  found  out  that,  so 
far  as  the  longitude  went,  they  were  under  this  blessed 
Boston  meridian.  And  when  you  complete  the  great 
circle,  and  come  on  the  other  side  of  the  world,  you 


80  THE  INGHAM  PAPEES. 

feel  it  all  the  more.  That  is  the  reason  why  Coram 
enjoyed  Java  so  much  ;  because  this  meridian  of  109° 
east,  just  half-way  round,  as  the  sun  moves,  makes 
everything  seem  so  natural.  Six  o'clock  here  when 
it  is  six  o'clock  there,  only  here  it  is  night  when  there 


it  is  mornino;. 

O 


So  I  was  a  little  sentimental  in  the  old  herring-boat, 
for  I  was  on  or  about  108°  east,  and  knew  I  was  near- 
ing  109°.  Did  they  think  of  me  at  home  ?  I  was 
almost  as  far  from  them  as  on  that  parallel  I  could  go, 
and  after  that  point  I  should  be  coming  nearer.  Per 
haps  it  was  this  ;  perhaps  I  took  cold  by  getting  wet 
when  we  shipped  those  heavy  seas  the  fourth  day  out, 
for  it  was  very  slow  work. 

I  had  all  the  tortures  in  my  lower  jaw,  left  side ; 
I  did  not  know  there  was  a  bad  tooth  there,  but  there 
was  something.  O,  what  a  night  that  was  !  Miss 
Martineau  says  we  do  not  remember  pain.  I  should 
like  to  try  her  on  that  toothache.  I  smoked  some 
wretched  Chinese  tobacco,  —  no  good.  Then  I  took 
some  nostrum  of  the  skipper's,  —  no  good.  Then  I 
dropped  fifty  drops  of  laudanum,  —  no  good.  Then  I 
thought  I  might  as  well  die  one  way  as  another,  and  I 
raked  out  some  Cannabis  Indica  (hasheesh,  you  know) 
that  was  in  Orloff 's  medicine-chest ;  I  chewed  that,  — 
no  good.  Finally  I  put  myself  to  sleep  with  ether, 
and  lay  like  a  log  till,  long  after  dark,  I  waked,  found 
the  skipper  had  covered  me  warm,  and  that  we  had 
made  a  splendid  run.  It  was  just  midnight,  and 


ROUND   THE   WORLD  IN  A  HACK.  81 

we  were  running  up  to  the  wharf,  or  slip,  of  Nofpo 
Staun. 

I  said  I  would  go  ashore.  The  skipper  tried  to  make 
me  wait  till  morning.  "  No :  I  had  had  enough  of 
the  lake, — I  begged  his  pardon,  —  of  the  sea."  I 
wrapped  myself  warmly,  stepped  on  the  wharf,  and 
found  it  a  little  peninsula  connecting  with  another,  just 
as  the  T  connects  with  the  old  Long  Wharf  of  Boston. 
And  up  this  other  longer  wharf  I  walked,,  under  the 
silent  moonlight,  into  the  little  town.  Was  I  asleep  ? 
I  knew  I  was  not  drunk  !  was  it  the  hasheesh  ?  was  it 
the  ether  ?  or  was  there  in  fact  a  little  old  State  House 
at  the  head  of  the  street  ?  and  was  there  the  dome 
of  another  State  House  beyond  it,  only  very  small  ? 
There  was  nobody  to  tell  me ;  but,  as  I  went  up  and 
on,  I  found  I  was  in  a  quaint,  queer,  old-fashioned 
little  Boston.  Was  it  Duchesne's  model,  which  had 
grown  a  little  ?  or  was  I  still  dreaming  in  the  skipper's 
cabin  ?  Up  State  Street  I  went,  —  up  Court  Street  I 
went,  —  I  passed  the  funny  little  Tremont  House  and 
the  funnier  Tremont  Theatre.  I  passed  the  Deblois 
House,  where  our  Horticultural  Hall  is  now.  When  I 
came  to  the  little  Park  Street  Church  and  the  little 
Common,  I  was  convinced  I  was  crazy.  I  walked 
sadly  back  to  the  little  Tremont  House,  went  up  the 
low  steps,  made  a  row  at  the  door,  and  was  admitted 
by  a  sleepy  Buraet,  who  looked  like  the  half-Chinaman 
that  he  was.  A  little  pantomime  and  a  little  Russia- 
in-Asia  gave  me  a  good  bed  any  way  ;  and  I  went  to 

4*  F 


82  THE  INGHAM  PAPEES. 

sleep,  and  slept  off  twelve  hours  more  of  toothache, 
cannabis,  laudanum,  and  nostrum. 

When  I  crawled  down  to  breakfast  the  host  came, 
attentive,  as  Chinese  as  his  waiter  ;  but  he  talked  a 
little  German.  So  did  I.  Two  littles  in  language 
may  not  fit  very  closely,  however,  and  our  "  littles  " 
were  not  the  same  "  littles,"  and  to  my  joy  he  soon 
sent  for  an  interpreter ;  for  he  wanted  to  be  attentive. 
And  in  fifteen  minutes  an  indubitable  Yankee,  gray- 
haired  and.  smiling,  appeared,  who  was,  as  it  proved, 
no  other  than  Seth,  of  whom  I  have  been  telling  you. 
He  had  lived  in  this  place,  he  said,  for  nigh  thirty 
years.  "  There  wa'  n't  nothin'  when  I  came,"  said 
he  ;  "  but  Mr.  Cradock  liked  to  stay  here,  and  he 
wrent  into  the  lumber  business,  and  we  make  the  town 
as  much  like  the  old  place  as  we  can."  And  so  he 
launched  me  on  the  story  I  have  been  telling  you. 

Y.  —  OF  MRS.  CBADOCK  AGAIN. 

For  Mrs.  Cradock  never  turned  back  from  Sydney. 
Not  she.  She  stayed  till  summer,  making  friends  of 
high  and  low  in  her  gentle,  tender  way.  But  she 
only  waited  for  a  chance  to  go  farther.  A  little 
French  fishing-vessel  ran  in  for  doctor's  help  for  the 
skipper's  wife,  who  was  on  board.  Dear  Mrs.  Cradock 
helped  her  more  than  all  the  faculties ;  and  when  she 
was  better,  and  the  little  schooner  started  for  St.  Malo, 
the  Boston  hack  was  hauled  upon  her  deck,  covered 


BOUND  THE  WORLD  IN  A  HACK. 

with  a  tarpaulin,  the  horses  were  sold,  and   Madam 
and  Seth  and  Nimshi  Jehusson,  the  driver,  took  passage 
eastward.     Madam  was  deadly  sea-sick  ;  but  she  said, 
«  If  I  could  only  be  sea-sick  and  he  here,"  for  she 
remembered.     The  French  people  could  not   under 
stand  a  word  they  said,  nor  they  the  seamen.     But 
they  understood  that  Madam  was  a  saint,  and  that 
the  others  were  her  familiars.     So  when  they  came 
to  Brest,  before  running  up  to  St.  Malo,  the  French 
people  told  all  comers  that  here  was  a  Lady  Abbess 
from  a  great  American  convent.     And  Madam  smiled 
and  was  courteous,  and  Seth  was  voluble  and  unintel 
ligible,  and  Nimshi  said  nothing.     A  Lady  Superior 
came  down  to  see  them.     She  found  Madam  on  deck 
reading  her  Selections  from  Fe'ne'lon  and  her  Bible. 
The  Lady  Superior  was  not  strong  in  literature,  but 
she  knew  the  word  "  Bible  "  when  she  saw  it,  and 
she  knew  the  word  "  F^nelon  "  when  she  saw  that, 
and  she  knew  the  little  gold  cross  which  Madam  Cra- 
dock  wore  because  Joshua  gave  it  her  on  her  birth 
day.     So  the  Lady  Superior  took  them  with  all  the 
honors  to  her  convent,  all  officers  of  customs  bowing 
respectful,  and  here  they  stayed  till  Nimshi  and  Seth 
had  bought  little  Bre*ton  horses  that  suited  them,  and 
then  they  started  on  what  the  Lady  Superior  called, 
properly  enough,  their  "  pelerinage  sainte"     She  di 
rected  them  to  the  next  holy  house,  and  so,  by  good 
luck,  they  started  east  with  a  better  introduction  than 
all  the  savans  and  all  the  diplomatists  in  the  world 


84  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

could  have  given  them.  It  was  very  droll  to  hear 
Seth's  account  of  how  they  got  a  passport.  A  "  sport " 
he  always  called  it,  rejecting  the  first  syllable,  and  it 
was  long  before  I  found  out  what  he  was  talking  about. 
The  Lady  Abbess  had  used  some  pretty  stiff  influence, 
I  fancy ;  at  all  events,  what  with  the  American  Con 
sul  at  Brest,  and  the  Abbess,  and  some  ecclesiastics 
whom  Seth  designated  as  "  them  priests,"  something 
was  arranged  which  answered  the  purpose  for  two 
continents. 

And  once,  as  they  rode  from  one  holy  house  to 
another,  Madam  Cradock  took  into  that  Boston  hack 
ney-coach,  at  which  the  village  children  stared  so,  a 
little  waif  of  an  orphan,  for  whom  the  sisters  were 
caring,  who  was  supposed  to  need  change  of  air.  She 
promised  to  deliver  her  safely  to  the  sisters  at  Grand 
Luce'.  And  this  little  puss,  with  her  French  ques 
tions,  which  Mrs.  Cradock  could  not  answer,  and  with 
her  relish  of  Mrs.  Cradock's  store  of  bonbons,  and 
with  dropping  asleep  hot  afternoons  in  Mrs.  Cradock's 
arms,  and  laying  her  head  resolutely  in  Mrs.  Cra 
dock's  lap  as  evening  drew  on,  became  so  dear  to  the 
good  lady  that,  when  they  came  to  Grand  Luce*,  she 
could  not  bear  to  part  with  her.  And  after  they  had 
rested  there  the  accustomed  three  days,  Madam  begged 
her  of  the  sisters  that  she  might  carry  her  on  to  Bon- 
nelles  ;  and  at  Bonnelles,  she  begged  that  she  might 
take  her  on  to  Rampillon.  Now  the  child  was  no 
body's  child  but  the  good  God's,  so  far  as  man  knew 


ROUND   THE  WORLD   IN   A  HACK.  85 

or  nun  knew,  and  at  Rampillon  there  was  no  difficulty 
in  letting  her  go  to  Bruy£res.  And  at  Bruyeres  she 
started  again  with  them  to  Weil,  and  so  to  Ellwangen 
and  Bruck,  and  indeed  never  left  Mrs.  Cradock  more. 
Whether,  indeed,  the  nuns,  any  of  them,  understood 
one  word  of  the  pantomime  by  which  Madam  Cradock 
told  the  story,  I  think  may  be  doubted.  For  she  and 
Seth  and  Nimshi  resolutely  held,  all  the  way  through, 
to  the  language  to  which  they  were  born. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  those  people  who 
know  nothing  of  a  foreign  language  fare  better,  in  the 
parts  where  it  is  spoken,  than  those  who  think  they 
know  something.  They  are  put  through  by  the  cour 
tesy  of  the  natives,  while  the  people  who  insist  on  doing 
their  own  talking  are  e'en  left  to  care  for  themselves. 
So  was  it,  at  least,  with  Seth,  and  Nimshi,  and  Mrs. 
Cradock.  And  by  the  courtesy  of  the  nuns  to  the 
child,  Mrs.  Cradock  became  proprietor  of  this  little 
Adele,  without  any  apprentice-papers  or  act  of  sale. 

So  from  convent  to  convent  they  fared  on.  Nimshi 
and  Seth  made  their  sets  of  acquaintances  among 
horse-people  ;  Mrs.  Cradock  and  Adele  made  theirs 
in  chapels  and  ghostly  parlors.  If  winters  came,  they 
made  long  pauses.  If  summer  came,  they  drove, 
toward  sunrise.  Little  they  knew  of  the  politics  of 
the  countries  they  passed  through  ;  but  there  were 
love  and  faith  and  hope  inside  the  carriage,  and 
resolution  and  courage  outside  ;  and  little  Adele,  who 
sat  now  within  and  now  without,  became,  in  those 


86  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

long   stages,    mediator   and   interpreter   between   the 
two. 

And  so  it  happened  at  last,  one  bright  September 
day,  as  they  were  crossing  the  flat  at  the  northern 
end  of  the  Baikal  Sea,  that  Seth  pointed  to  Nimshi 
a  tandem  team  approaching  them  far  distant ;  three 
Lapland  reindeer  scampering  down  with  a  heavier 
carnage  behind  them  than  the  usual  low  Russian  post- 
coach,  and  asked  him  what  he  would  give  to  boot,  if 
the  post-boy  offered  to  swap  the  three  deer  against 
their  half-blood  Tartars.  Nimshi  replied  with  some 
good-natured  chaff;  but  as  they  approached  the  stran 
ger,  he  admitted  that  the  heavy-clad  post-boy  kept  his 
wild  team  well  in  hand,  and  that  they  were  a  handier 
set  than  he  would  have  supposed.  They  drew  up  off 
the  road  for  the  "  little  beggars  "  to  go  by  ;  not  ex 
pecting  conversation,  for  which,  indeed,  they  were  not 
prepared.  But  the  stranger  was  more  communica 
tive.  By  a  wild  Lapland  cry  he  threw  the  little  crea 
tures  back  on  their  haunches,  and  in  three  or  four 
words  addressed  the  Yankee. 

"  Irkutsk  shipko  gliibnik  ?  "  asked  he. 

And  Seth  said  :  "  We  speak  English,  if  you  please." 

"  English,"  cried  the  bearded  Laplander  ;  "  who  are 
you  ?  I  said  to  myself  that  the  driving  was  like  the 
driving  of  Nimshi  Jehusson, — are  you  Seth  Cor 
bet  ?  " 

And  by  this  time  a  woman's  head  was  out  of  one 
window  of  the  Eastward  hack ;  and  a  man's  out  of 
one  of  the  Western. 


ROUND    THE   WORLD  IN  A  HACK.  87 

"  Joshua  !  " 

"  Molly  I  " 

They  had  met  half-way. 

VI.  —  OF  NOFPO  STAUN. 

At  the  spot  where  the  carriages  met  I  found  them 
still  standing,  thirty  years  after,  as  a  monument  of  the 
happy  rendezvous. 

Just  above  it  rises  the  mimic  State  House,  below  is 
the  mimic  Common,  around  which  their  travels  ended; 
here  they  founded  the  New  Boston,  which  was  their 
after  home. 


FRIENDS'   MEETING. 


[MR.  IXGHAM  visited  the  Friends'  Meeting  here  described,  at 
the  Franklin  Street  Meeting-house,  Philadelphia,  on  the  16th 
of  May,  1847.  His  report  of  it  was  first  published  in  "  The 
Rosary,"  a  collection  of  poems  and  essays,  in  1848.] 


I  HAD  been  to  a  Friends'  meeting  before.  But  that 
was  when  I  knew  that  a  distinguished  English  Friend 
would  be  present.  I  went  with  a  crowd  of  others, 
who  went  to  hear  him.  We  knew  he  would  speak,  or 
thought  we  knew  it,  because  the  streets  were  placarded 
with  announcements  that  he  would  be  there.  And 
we  heard  him. 

But  this  day — my  only  Sunday  in  Philadelphia  for 
a  long  time  —  I  wranted  to  go  to  a  real,  usual  Friends' 
meeting.  And  therefore  we  had  gone  without  especial 
expectation  to  hear  any  one.  I  wish  everybody  could 
go  to  meeting,  always,  as  free  from  that  sort  of  associa 
tion.  Here,  at  least,  the  Friends  have  the  better  of 
the  rest  of  us  Protestants. 

It  was  a  beautiful  Sunday,  —  most  beautiful  in 
May  ;  —  and,  in  beautiful  Philadelphia,  "May  "  means 


FRIENDS'   MEETING.  89 

May.  Fortunately  enough,  we  were  very  early  at  the 
meeting,  so  that  the  doors  were  not  opened ;  and  we 
walked  once  and  again,  as  we  waited  for  the  service, 
around  Franklin  Square  ;  in  which  the  fountain  was 
flashing  in  the  sun,  the  grass  and  foliage  green  and 
fresh  and  bright  as  fairy-land  ;  and  the  crowds  of  peo 
ple,  men,  women,  and  children,  as  cheerful,  though  as 
quiet,  as  Sunday. 

And  thence  we  walked  on,  and  arrived  a  second 
time  at  the  meeting-house,  together  with  others,  so 
that  the  gradual  gathering  showed  that  this  was  the 
right  hour.  One  after  another  the  Friends  came, 
almost  all  stopping  in  the  outer  square,  to  bid  each 
other  good  day,  and  to  drink  a  little  of  that  sparkling 
water  from  the  can  which  is  chained  there.  As  I  sit  I 
can  see  the  little  boys  drag  their  fathers  aside  to  the 
hydrant,  if  they  pass  it  without  this  draught;  and 
then  each  sips  a  little,  so  that  one  would  half  fancy  it 
was  a  preparatory  rite ;  the  boys  whisper  a  little, 
while  their  fathers  say  "  good  day  "  to  each  other,  and 
then  all  walk  into  the  house  together.  Is  it  fancy  or 
not,  that  they  come  in  with  a  more  natural,  unaffected 
air  than  worshippers  into  temples  of  more  pretension  ? 
Is  there  a  sort  of  formal  pace  for  our  carpeted  aisles, 
—  as  if  the  organ  voluntary,  like  a  military  tune,  de 
manded  a  movement  of  its  own  ?  I  hardly  know. 
Perhaps  I  never  before  looked  thus  at  the  different 
people  scattering  into  church.  I  cannot  help  watching 
them  here.  Indeed,  I  do  not  care  to  help  it.  These 


90  THE  INGHAM  PAPEKS. 

people  all  come  in,  reverently  indeed,  but  not  more 
reverently  than  they  walk  the  streets  every  day. 
At  least,  there  is  no  sombre  look  on  their  faces. 

Every  one  is  in.  No !  there  is  one  of  the  world's 
people  creaking  in  at  the  end  door.  How  can  he 
make  that  noise  in  the  midst  of  this  silence  ?  Why 
could  he  not  come  in  time  ?  But  now  he  is  seated,  — 
and  the  silence —  No!  —  there  is  another  and  an 
other.  But  they  sit  nearer  the  door ;  I  am  glad  of 
that.  I  hope  nobody  will  come  in  now.  This  si 
lence,  —  real  silence,  —  while  one  has  the  perfect  con 
sciousness  of  communion,  is  refreshing,  truly.  I  remem 
ber  how  utterly  a  lonely  silence  always  impressed  me. 

This  is  like  it,  but  I  had  rather  be  here  than 
there.  I  sat  in  one  of  the  long  halls  in  the  cave  of 
Schoharie.  C.  and  the  rest  of  them  had  gone  by,  and 
I  had  only  my  lamp  for  company.  They  were  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  in  advance, — and  the  world  quarter  of  a 
mile  above  me,  and  nothing  but  thick  rock  between. 
I  remember  the  instant  when  I  put  out  my  lamp,  that 
I  might  be  quite  alone.  I  was  never  less  alone  ;  —  a 
familiar  thing  to  say,  —  often  said,  —  but  how  wonder 
fully  felt  when  one  feels  God  with  him,  in  the  fearless 
ness,  the  trust,  the  excited  enthusiasm,  of  one  of  those 
cave  or  mountain  solitudes !  Great  God !  whose 
lessons,  whose  handwriting,  whose  voices  are  like 
those  of  thine? 

What  is  that  bird?  0,  I  am  in  the  Friends' 
meeting  !  How  they  sing,  —  those  cheerful  little  fel- 


FRIENDS'   MEETING.  91 

lows  on  those  branches  which  will  swing  to  and  fro 
across  the  open  doorway !  One,  two,  and  then  a 
third  strikes  in,  to  show  that  he  can  sing  as  well. 
They  understand  Sunday  wonderfully  well.  Or,  bet 
ter,  I  suppose  they  keep  Sunday  every  day.  There  is 
no  inconsistency  between  their  Sunday  and  their  week 
day  lives.  Sing  away,  little  fellows ;  there  are  no  better 
masses  than  those,  to-day,  all  round  the  world !  As 
the  world  turns  to-day,  there  is  sounding  something 
better  than  a  perpetual  morning  drum-beat.  To-day, 
as  land  after  land  flashes  into  the  sun,  there  is  a  per 
petual  morning  prayer  going  up  to  God,  from  that 
Church  which  he  sees  as  one,  though  we  subdivide  it 
so.  And  every  day,  as  the  lands  turn  to  meet  the 
sun,  there  is  poured  upwards  this  chorus  of  praise, 
which  does  not  know,  perhaps,  that  it  is  praise,  —  and 
yet  is  perpetual,  —  has  been,  ever  since  Adam  was. 
An  eternal  hymn,  of  bird  and  beast,  going  up  to  the 
God  of  life  !  Great  God !  —  how  beautiful  this  world 
is !  Sound  and  sight  always  delighted,  never  be 
wildered.  Spring  crowded  with  wonders,  which  we 
say  we  never  felt  before  ;  nay,  which  we  never  did 
feel  before.  For,  thank  God  !  if  one  power  of  our  na 
ture  does  grow  as  we  grow  older,  it  is  this  with  which  we 
so  enjoy  nature.  Was  ever  anything  before  so  beauti 
ful  to  me  as  the  trees  in  Franklin  Square  to-day,  and  that 
rich  grass,  and  the  willows  hanging  over  the  basin, — 
green  fountains  as  they  seemed,  —  and  the  bright 
sparkles  of  the  other  fountains,  —  that  delicate  spray  I 


92  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

—  and  the  beautiful  rainbow,  when  we  walked  round 
so  as  to  catcli  the  right  light  of  the  sun  !  Certainly, 
I  never  enjoyed  anything  in  the  world  more.  Why, 
the  very  May-flower  hunt,  of  last  Tuesday,  in  Massa 
chusetts,  has  made  me  enjoy  Franklin  Square  to 
day  !  Thank  God  that  we  do  gain  so,  —  that  every 
spring,  every  walk,  teaches  Sterling's  lesson  of  the 
night :  — 

"  As  night  is  darkening  o'er, 

And  stars  resume  their  tranquil  day, 
They  show  how  Nature  gives  us  more 
Than  all  she  ever  takes  away  !  " 

Why,  there  is  the  dancing  shadow  of  the  branch  on 
the  wail  yonder!  Never,  till  this  moment,  have  I 
noticed  such  easy  gracefulness  of  movement  in  a 
shadow.  It  is  on  one  side  of  the  doorway.  I  do  not 
see  the  branch  itself. 

But  here,  of  course,  I  must  not  move.  I  had  for 
gotten  I  was  in  meeting.  Nobody  has  spoken  yet.  — 
I  do  not  wonder.  Why  should  they  speak  ?  .  .  .  . 
How  simply  arranged  everything  here  is !  They 
carry  their  simplicity  too  far.  Because  they  would 
be  simple,  their  house  need  not  be  ugly.  That 
window  would  have  answered  the  same  purpose  if 
it  had  been  of  agreeable  proportions.  How  the  eye 
seeks  for  something  graceful,  —  nay,  must  have  it  I 
That  is  the  reason  that  mine,  so  unconsciously,  has 
been  resting  on  that  cord  with  which  they  pull  up 
the  curtain.  They  forgot  to  stretch  that  tight  when 


FKIENDS'   MEETING.  93 

they  arranged  the  room.  And  so,  of  itself,  as  we 
blasphemously  say,  it  has  fallen  into  that  graceful 
curve.  It  is  the  only  graceful  thing  inside  the  build 
ing  on  that  side  on  which  I  am  looking.  It  is  the 
only  thing  which  men  have  left  alone.  Curiously 
graceful  that  catenary  curve  in  which  it  hangs !  You 
cannot  draw  one  by  your  eye.  Not  the  truest  artist ! 
And  yet,  the  world  over,  there  is  not  a  loose  cord  but 
is  hanging  in  that  delicately  graceful  way.  Why, 
even  those  that  they  stretch  the  tightest  —  that  they 
say  are  perfectly  tight  —  really  bend  a  little,  a  very 
little,  and  in  this  exquisite  curve.  The  world  over, 
they  are  obeying  the  same  law.  And  because  it  is 
God's  law,  that  form,  in  which  they  fall  obedient, 
pleases  my  eye,  pleases  every  one  who  looks  on  it. 
The  same  here,  there,  and  everywhere  ;  the  same 
arrangement  that  makes  Leverrier's  planet  sweep 
around  in  an  orbit  of  such  consummate  grace ;  the 
same  makes  the  trough  of  the  waves  of  such  sweep  as 
it  is ;  the  cordage  of  a  ship  so  beautiful ;  yes,  and  that 
law  has  been  strong  enough  to  defeat  this  mistake  of 
my  Friends  (they  are  Friends,  though  I  never  saw 
one  of  them)  here  in  their  meeting-house.  Strong 
enough  for  that  ?  Why,  yes.  I  remember,  that  men 
prove  by  the  calculus,  —  by  its  highest  flight  and 
best,  —  which  is,  as  always  in  the  mathematics,  the 
highest  and  best  flight  of  poetry,  —  I  remember,  that 
by  the  most  elaborate  and  recondite  of  calculation, 
they  prove,  that,  in  fact,  no  human  power,  no  finite 


94  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

power,  can  strain  a  cord  that  it  shall  be  absolutely 
straight ;  that  it  shall  not  have  something  of  this  beauti 
ful  God-ordered  curve.  The  highest  power  of  man, 
his  best  calculation,  shows,  like  his  weakest  and  his  poor 
est,  that  God  has  ruled  all  things  in  beauty,  and  that 
all  man's  twitchings  and  struggles  are  powerless,  when 
they  act  against  this  eternal  Law.  God  of  order  ! 
God  of  beauty  !  how  can  we  thank  thee  for  such 
daily  miracles  ?  How  can  we  learn  —  grow  —  to 
prize  as  we  ought  life  and  its  wonders  ?  Strengthen 
us,  Father  !  strengthen  us  !  that  our  free  lives,  also, 
may  accord  better  and  more  often  with  thy  Eternal 
Life  ;  —  that  we  may  labor  with  thy  laws,  with  thy 
power,  —  thou  in  us,  and  we  in  thee  ! 

Some  one  spoke  !  No ;  it  was  the  moving  door 
which  startled  me.  I  hope  it  will  not  swing  to.  I 
must  see  still  that  shadow  of  the  branch  flitting  to 
and  fro  on  the  outer  wall  there.  What  a  handwriting 
it  is !  So  graceful !  and  with  every  new  motion  so 
different  from  that  before  !  beautiful,  and  infinite,  like 
all  the  rest !  Must  these  inner  walls  around  us  be  left 
so  bare,  and  coldly  white,  and  unornamented  ?  Sure 
ly  we  should  not  be  made  more  worldly  if  the  memory 
of  God's  love  came  to  us  from  the  inner  as  well  as 
that  outer  wall  of  this  house.  And  could  it  make  us 
more  worldly  to  see  him  in  the  pure  works  of  brave 
men,  made  strong  by  his  strength,  than  it  does  to  see 
him  in  the  shadow  there,  or  the  leaf,  or  the  bough  ? 


FEIENDS'   MEETING.  95 

If  that  dead  white  wall  which  is  opposite  me,  beneath 
the  little  windows,  and  above  the  elders'  seats,  bore 
some  representation  of  one  of  the  victories   of   God 
when  he  works  in  the  soul  of  man  ?     Suppose  it  were 
of  the  very  beginning  of  this  gathering  which  is  here 
to-day  ?     The  first  day  that  William  Penn,  a  gentle 
manly,  courtly,  spirited  young  fellow,  went  with  his 
college  companions  to  hear  Thomas  Loe,  the  Quaker 
itinerant,  as  they  called  him,  preach   in    Oxford,  — 
what  a  day  that  was  for  this    Pennsylvania,    for   us 
here,  nay,  for  the  whole  world  !     I  can  figure  them 
out  for  myself  on  the  large  blank  wall,  —  Loe  preach 
ing  that  which  he  remembered  these  college  sprigs  of 
nobility   and  gentility  needed.      Plainly    dressed  he, 
but  nobly  moved;    feeling  that  the  spirit  is  on  him. 
I  can  see  his  face  as  it  would  lighten  up,  as  he  spoke 
to  that  crowd  around  him  of  wondering  citizens,  grow 
ing  more  and  more  cordial  to  him,  and  to  that  group 
of  students,  who  have  gone  there  to  laugh,  to  ridi 
cule,  or,  in  one  word,  to  "  see  fun."     Why,  on  the 
picture,  even  their  faces   should   be  growing  grave, 
beneath  his  solemn  spirited,  gospel  eloquence  !     And 
what  ought  to  be  the  face  of  Penn  ?     At  this  moment 
he  is  receiving  the  influence  which  shall  last  through 
his  life,  — the  preacher  is  fanning  into    a   flame    the 
sparks  which  have  always  been  in  his  heart ;  and  those 
words,  that  spirit  of  that  man,  are  mastering  him ;  are 
compelling  him  to  listen  ;  are  compelling  him  to  obey ; 
and,  from  this  moment  forward,  he  will  be  the  true- 


96  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

hearted,  God-seeking  friend  of  man!  It  is  a  moment 
to  study  expression.  As  he  leans  on  John  Locke's 
shoulder  there, — as  he  listens  with  more  ardor  and 
more,  —  his  face  must  lighten  with  the  most  intense 
light.  It  is  fervent  devotion,  resting  on  grave  thought. 
Penn,  ardent  and  moved,  resting  on  Locke,  —  thought 
ful,  but  perhaps  no  less  touched  in  his  own  way. 
What  a  pair  these,  to  stand  among  these  flaunting 
laughers,  gay  dressed  and  half  listless,  and  those  sober, 
undemonstrative  citizens,  in  their  simpler  aspect,  to 
be  listening  to  such  a  preacher  as  Thomas  Loe ! 
What  a  triumph  of  the  true  sincere  spirit  of  Loe,  if 
he  could  have  only  known  what  should  come  from  that 
moment !  Penn  did  stand  by  his  death-bed,  remem 
ber,  a  few  years  after,  and  the  dying  saint  knew  then  that 
here  was  a  young  man  all  ready  to  go  forward  in  his  own 
work.  But  he  could  not  know  that  that  young  man 
should  be  the  beginning  of  a  nation  ;  the  visible  sym 
bol  to  all  time  of  the  uselessness  of  war,  whose  name 
should  be  synonymous  with  peace ;  and  he  did  not 
know  —  who  does  know  ?  —  how  far  that  day's  preach 
ing  rested  on  Locke's  conscience,  and  made  him  the 
true  man  he  was.  Unconscious  genius  !  how  brave 
is  this  working  in  faith  when  there  is  no  sight !  — 
this  preaching  to  those  who  seem  scoffers,  perhaps, — 
who  are  the  regenerators  of  the  world  !  It  is  God's 
work  again.  Faith,  noble  faith,  —  so  much  more  no 
ble  than  knowledge  —  like  all  things  noble,  it  leads  us 
up  to  Him  of  whom  it  tells  us  !  Father  !  let  it  do 


FRIENDS'   MEETING.  97 

more  ;  as  it  brings  us  up  to  Thee,  let  it  inspirit  us 
also,  and  make  us  also  alive,  that,  though  we  see 
nothing  of  the  harvest,  we  may  still  forever  sow  the 
seed  ;  that,  though  the  heaviest  thunders  are  above 
us,  and  the  blackest  clouds  and  the  darkest  day,  we 
may  still  scatter  it  on  the  field  ;  and  do  Thou,  by  the 
lightning  itself,  and  these  very  storms  which  over 
whelm  us,  give  it  life  and  strength  ;  that,  though  long 
after  we  have  left  our  work,  it  shall  still  spring  up, 
and  yield  abundantly  ! 

But  there  is  no  picture  !  The  wall  is  only  white. 
I  wish  there  were  !  I  wish  George  Wall,  the  Quaker 
painter,  would  paint  one  there.  I  should  be  glad  to 
be  reminded  oftener  of  these  brave  men,  God's  true 
children  ;  and,  by  their  deeds,  of  their  Father.  What 
picture  could  we  have  on  the  other  side,  —  the  woman's 
side  ?  There  is  a  blank  wall  also.  It  matches  this : 
there  should  be  a  woman's  picture  too  :  one  of  wo 
man's  Christian  victories.  Such  resolution  as  they 
have,  in  all  their  weakness  !  Such  wisdom  as  they 
have,  coming  straight  from  their  unlogical  simplicity  ! 
Such  power  as  they  have,  from  their  mere  quiet  truth, 
unconcealmg,  unconcealed!  Ready,  if  they  think 
there  is  need,  —  ready  as  the  stoutest  man,  —  to  go 
even  to  the  scourge  or  to  the  stake  !  Poor  Jane 
Dare  !  Her  only  fault  that  she  loved  her  country  and 
her  countrymen  too  well,  and  acted  out  her  love  in 
the  crude  language  her  time  had;  in  that  brutal 


5 


98  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

outer  fighting,  the  only  way  she  knew  of ;  as  brave 
as  the  bravest  of  them  ;  and  stronger  and  more  hope 
ful  than  the  strongest  of  them,  because  she  trusted 
in  the  Eternal  Truth,  in  Eternal  Righteousness,  — 
trusted  in  God  !  You  almost  say  that  it  never  hap 
pened  in  fact !  —  that  the  picture  of  her  would  be 
only  a  type  of  what  is  always  true.  Faith  like  hers 
should  be  mounted  on  the  charger  of  victory  ;  yes, 
and  it  should  be  clothed  with  that  helmet  and  breast 
plate,  that  heavenly  armor,  of  which  Paul  tells.  How 
natural  to  represent  that  Spirit  in  her  form,  —  and 
around  her  the  group  of  soldiers,  wondering,  fearing  — 
I  forget  myself!  Jane  of  Orleans  must  not  be  in 
a  Friends'  meeting-house.  Some  one  else  must  be 
painted  on  that  panel.  Mrs.  Fry,  perhaps,  in  a  prison  ? 
Or  some  Quaker  mother  here  among  the  Indians  ? 
Or  some  of  the  sufferers  among  the  English,  or  New 
English  ?  —  the  martyrdom  of  a  later  saint  ?  No,  not 
that ;  we  will  not  preserve  the  memory  of  the  perse 
cutions.  That  shall  die,  as  other  old  forms  die,  and  old 
languages,  when  men  have  done  with  them.  But  the 
true  spirit  of  all  these,  —  that  must  be  preserved.  That 
spirit  of  perpetual  confidence,  —  unshrinking  faith  in 
the  secret  conscience  call  of  God,  —  that  is  immortal. 
The  picture  shall  show  that !  It  was  in  all  of  them, 
just  as  it  was  in  the  young,  steel-clad  French 
maiden.  I  can  see  her,  I  can  almost  hear  her,  with  its 
supernatural  eloquence,  exciting  starved  and  fearful 
soldiers.  Or,  in  that  little  minute,  when  men's  awe 


FKIENDS'   MEETING.  99 

of  death  leaves  even  a  convict  wholly  free,  just  before 
he  dies,  to  speak  all  he  will,  —  I  can  see  her,  as  she 
stands  chained  to  the  stake  ;  her  face  alive  with  more 
than  earthly  life  ;  her  eyes  flashing  with  heavenly 
fire,  and  yet  soft  with  heavenly  love,  as  she  speaks 
her  last  words  to  those  dull  persecutors  ! 

But  I  forget  myself  again.  A  warrior,  a  woman 
of  the  sword,  must  not  be  in  a  Friends'  meeting-house  I 
No.  But  who  shall  be  ?  Not  Judith,  —  not  Debo 
rah,  —not  the  Queen  of  Sheba.  She  was  coldly  in 
tellectual  ;  no  !  it  shall  be  a  Christian  woman,  who 
gives  life  to  the  scene  with  Christian  faith,  with  Chris 
tian  endurance,  and  Christian  power.  It  shall  be  one 
of  the  martyrs  among  women  who  have  consecrated 
the  church  which  has  so  often  made  saints  of  them ; 
who  have  carried  forward,  so  often  and  so  far,  the 
gospel,  which  spoke  to  the  first  of  them  so  truly, 
though  they  were  in  anguish,  in  a  woman's  tears,  — 
and  suffering  with  all  a  woman's  sympathy,  when  he 
looked  down  upon  them  from  the  cross.  They  also 
have  been  apostles,  though  unnamed ;  they  also  have 
been  preachers,  whether  they  spoke  aloud  or  not ;  they 
also  have  been  Christian  soldiers,  whether  they  have  girt 
on  armor  or  not.  The  heroine  of  France,  in  rallying 
the  soldiers,  is  only  an  outward  exhibition  of  what  so 

many  of  them  have  been  before.     We  see  her  do 

what  so  many  of  them  have  done,  unseen  —  lead  on 
thousands  by  the  word  of  faith.  We  hear  her  say  — 
what  so  many  of  them  have  said,  unheard  —  that  the 


100  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

call  of  God  makes  the  weakest  powerful.  We  see 
her  suffer,  — as  so  many  have  suffered,  unheralded,  —  a 
true,  brave  woman  ;  —  true  to  the  last,  and  brave  in 
the  midst  of  torture. 

I  will  think  of  Jane  Dare  !  I  will  draw  out  her 
picture  there  on  the  wall,  as  I  look  at  it.  This  is  not 
a  vague  wandering  of  thought  that  brings  me  back  to 
her  ;  and  she  and  her  sufferings  are  not  unfit  associates 
of  the  place.  For  one  does  not  think  of  the  fighting  ; 
it  is  not  of  that  sad  bloodshed  that  I  am  reminded. 
Their  memory  has  gone  ;  it  is  lost  to  me  as  is  the  old 
dialect  in  which  she  spoke  ;  or  the  fashion,  indeed,  of 
any  of  the  outward  dresses  which  she  wore  ;  of  any 
of  the  outward  seemings  through  which  her  spirit 
spoke.  God  be  praised  for  that !  God  be  praised 
that  the  bitter  form  of  fighting  and  bloodshed  does 
seem  old  and  gone  !  that  these  Friends  here  have 

o 

helped  to  push  it  away,  —  to  bury  it  in  rust !  But 
the  spirit  which  spoke  through  it  —  the  trust  in  God, 
the  consciousness  of  God's  inner  voice,  which  enliv 
ened  it  —  will  never  die.  That  is  immortal!  And 
it  is  the  one  Spirit  which  enlivened  all  those  other 
martyrs.  God  be  praised  for  that !  God  indeed  be 
praised  !  I  thank  thee,  Father,  for  this  also,  —  that 
in  all  the  past  which  is  gone,  as  in  this  present,  thou 
art  unchanging,  unchanged ;  that  as  time  passes  by, 
'God's  spirit  does  not  pass  by,  but  is  Right  Eternal, 
Truth  Immortal!  Do  thou,  the  Eternal  God,  —  the 
unchangeable  I  Am,  —  enter  my  heart  with  all  the 


FRIENDS'   MEETING.  101 

power  of  thy  presence,  that  in  me  the  right  and  the 
truth  may  not  falter,  may  not  yield  ;  make  me  to  be 
thine  forever  ! 

Hark  !  some  one  speaks.  It  is  one  of  the  elders 
beneath  the  narrow  windows.  "  They  who  wait  upon 
the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength.  They  who  wait 
upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength.  I  am  glad, 
my  friends,  that  there  is  still  a  company  of  those  who 
are  willing  to  wait  upon  the  Lord,  although  in  silence, 
knowing  that  he  will  renew  their  strength.  I  am 
glad,  that  in  this  time,  when  there  are  so  many  voices, 
and  so  many  men  who  oppose  him  and  his  people, 
there  is  still  a  company  of  those  who  are  willing  to 
meet,  as  their  fathers  did,  and  wait  for  the  influence 
of  his  Spirit.  When  all  philosophy  tells  us  that  even 
of  dead  matter  there  is  no  end,  —  that  its  atoms  sep 
arate  but  to  unite  in  other  forms,  and  never  perish, — 
how  can  it  be  that  the  spirit,  which  gives  all  its  life  to 
matter,  shall  end,  or  be  of  no  worth  or  of  no  account  ? 
And  how  can  we  forget  to  seek  the  Eternal  Spirit ; 
the  Spirit  of  spirits  ?  —  to  wait  for  it  in  prayer,  and 
in  communion,  that  it  may  inspirit  our  lives  ?  " 

How  can  we,  indeed  ?  — how  can  we  ?  I  hope  he 
will  say  nothing  more  !  No  !  he  has  sat  down.  How 
can  we  go  through  the  world  as  if  it  were  a  dead 
world,  a  giant  corpse,  and  talk  of  dead  philosophies  as 
if  we  were  dissecting  it,  and  studying  the  anatomy  of 
it  as  it  would  be  if  there  were  no  Spirit  to  give  order 


102  THE  INCH  AM  PAPERS. 

and  law  ?  How  can  we  do  this,  and  talk  of  this,  and 
think  of  this  forever  ?  And  that  God  is  so  near  us, 
speaking  to  us,  if  we  will  only  hear  ;  calling  us,  if  we 
will  only  listen ;  his  spirit  knocking,  if  we  will  only 
receive  it ;  every  pulse,  every  fibre  of  this  corpse,  as 
I  called  it,  alive  ;  and  alive  because  it  is  his  will ! 
God  of  life  !  now,  at  least,  I  do  remember  thee  ;  now, 
at  least,  I  do  seek  thee  !  O,  seek  me,  Father,  when 
I  am  dead,  or  sleeping  !  seek  me  in  the  living  voices 
of  truth  and  love,  that  I  may  wake  again,  and  live 
again,  in  Christ's  life,  —  in  thy  life,  —  in  the  life 
which  thy  goodness  has  made  eternal ! 

There  is  a  woman  speaking  !  u  They  that  wait 
upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength  ;  they  shall 
mount  up  with  wings  of  eagles ;  they  shall  run  and 
not  be  weary;  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint."  She 
says  nothing  more.  But  what  an  answer  is  here  to 
prayer  !  Before  it  is  offered,  before  it  has  conceived 
itself,  God  has  promised  thus  to  hear  it  and  to  bless  it. 
God  finds  us  thus  the  moment  that  we  seek  him.  He 
is  with  us  when  we  try  to  be  with  him. 

0  God  !  direct  my  wandering  thought 

To  centre  upon  Thee  ; 
Direct  my  eyes  to  look  through  aught, 

Till  Thee,  their  God,  they  see  ! 

In  every  leaf  of  every  tree, 

In  all  the  world  around, 
My  wandering  eye  has  looked,  —  till  Thee, 

The  God  of  love,  it  found. 


FRIENDS'   MEETING,  1C  3 

In  every  work  where  labors  man, 

With  true  or  selfish  mood, 
My  wandering  thought  finds  God  sustain, 

And  crown  each  toil  for  good  ; 
My  wandering  thought  finds  all  in  vain 

The  toil  which  turns  from  God. 

Praise  God,  for  wandering  eyes  his  world  of  love  to  see ! 
Praise  God,  for  thought  which  wanders  always  free  ! 
Praise  God,  for  faith  which  bends  a  willing  knee, 
Draws  me  to  Him,  the  while  He  smiles  on  me. 

Ah  !  One  of  the  elders  is  standing  up  !  See  !  he 
shakes  hands  with  another.  And  there,  those  others 
are  shaking  hands.  They  are  beginning  to  go  away. 
The  meeting  is  done. 


DID  HE  TAKE  THE  PRINCE  TO  RIDE? 


[AFTER  Mr.  Ingham  first  retired  from  naval  service,  —  and 
after  his  first  rebuff'  in  the  Sandemanian  ministry,  —  having 
established  his  residence  in  the  minister's  lot,  No.  9,  in  the  3d 
range  in  Maine,  —  he  then  assumed  a  position  of  modest  useful 
ness  in  the  city  of  Boston,  which  compelled  him  and  Mrs.  Jng- 
ham  to  reside  here  for  some  years.  To  this  period  of  his  life  be 
longs  the  year  1860,  and  Mr.  Haliburton's  adventure  which  is 
here  recorded.  My  impression  is  that  Mr.  Haliburton  was  at 
that  time  connected  with  the  Methuselah  and  Admetus  Life 
Company. 

The  narrative  was  first  published  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  for 
May,  1868.] 


DID  he  take  the  Prince  to  ride?  How  should  I 
know  ?  The  Prince  never  told  me  anything  about 
it.  I  never  saw  the  Prince  but  twice,  —  once  was 
out  by  the  old  Francis  House,  in  Brookline,  where 
I  rode  into  a  pasture  that  'Zyness  might  pass  by 
with  his  suite, — and  once  was  as  he  came  in  from 
Cambridge  on  the  old  Concord  Turnpike,  when  I 
and  my  wife  sat  in  the  buggy  and  joined  in  general 
enthusiasm.  There  is  a  photograph  of  him  in  the  tray 
there  ;  but  he  never  told  me,  nor  did  the  photograph, 
whether  Haliburton  took  him  to  ride.  Don't  ask  me. 


DID  HE   TAKE  THE  PRINCE   TO  RIDE?  105 

Haliburton  does  not  know  himself.  He  thought 
he  took  him  to  ride  ;  and  he  came  to  our  house  and 
told  me  and  my  wife  he  had  done  so.  But  when  he 
read  the  "  Advertiser  "  the  next  day,  the  "  Advertis 
er  "  said  the  Prince  went  with  the  City  Government 
to  see  the  House  of  Correction,  the  Insane  Hospital, 
the  Mount  Hope  Cemetery,  or  some  of  the  other 
cheerful  entertainments  which  are  specially  provided 
for  distinguished  persons.  So  Haliburton  was  a  little 
dashed,  thought  perhaps  he  had  been  sold ;  and  to  this 
hour  when  we  want  to  stir  him  up  a  little,  we  ask  him, 
44  Did  he  take  the  Prince  to  ride  ?  " 

This  is  the  story :  — 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  when  his  Royal  Highness, 
Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  Duke  of  Saxony, 
Prince  of  Saxe-Coburg  and  Gotha,  Grand  Steward  of 
Scotland,  Duke  of  Cornwall  and  Rothsay,  Count  of 
Chester,  Count  of  Carrick  and  Dublin,  Baron  Ren 
frew,  Lord  of  the  Isles,  visited  the  University  at  Cam 
bridge  in  New  England,  left  his  autograph  in  the  Li 
brary,  and  inspected  a  room  or  two  in  Holworthy,  — 
of  the  day  when,  as  above,  I  backed  the  buggy  into  a 
corner  for  'Zyness  to  pass,  and  attempted  vainly  to 
entice  the  burghers  of  Cambridgeport  into  a  unani 
mous  cheer,  —  this  day,  I  say,  he  visited,  with  a  few 
friends,  the  beautiful  Library  of  the  Historical  Society 
in  Tremont  Street ;  the  most  attractive  public  book- 
room,  let  me  say,  in  New  England,  and  therefore  the 
best  public  lion  in  Boston.  There  he  saw  the  Dowse 
5* 


106  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Library,  the  pen  that  signed  the  Articles  of  Confed 
eration,  the  Manchester  velvet  small-clothes  of  Frank 
lin,  and  the  curious  swords  from  Prescott's  library. 
These  are  the  swords  of  the  English  Captain  Linzee, 
who  first  opened  fire  on  Bunker  Hill,  and  of  the 
Yankee  Colonel  Prescott,  who  had  thrown  np  its  forti 
fication.  Prescott's  grandson,  the  historian,  married 
Linzee's  granddaughter  ;  and  so,  in  that  household, 
the  two  swords  worn  that  day  by  the  two  chiefs  came 
lovingly  together.  Blessed  be  the  omen  !  These 
curiosities,  and  others,  the  Prince  saw  ;  he  expressed 
a  kind  interest  in  them  ;  asked  for  an  autograph  of 
Washington  for  his  brother  Alfred,  which  some  gentle 
man  gave  him,  and  went  away. 

Haliburton  happened  to  be  there,  —  or  says  he  was 
there,  — and  it  is  there  that  the  story  begins.  How 
Haliburton  came  to  be  there  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know. 
He  is  not  a  member  of  the  society,  and  probably  nev 
er  will  be.  We  tell  him  he  smuggled  himself  in  from 
the  street,  and  was  mistaken  by  his  hosts  for  one  of  the 
delegation  from  Prince  Edward's  Island.  But  being 
there,  —  if  he  were  there,  —  and  talking  with  one  of 
those  thoroughly  intelligent  gentlemen  of  the  Prince's 
suite,  who  have  left  behind  them  such  pleasant  mem 
ories  here,  —  Haliburton  said  that  it  was  a  pity  the 
Prince  should  see  only  those  things  in  which  America 
could  not,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  rival  other 
countries,  and  in  which,  of  course,  she  had  least  that 
was  individual  or  of  special  interest.  "  History,"  said 


DID   HE   TAKE  THE  PRINCE  TO  EIDE?  107 

Haliburton,  must,  of  course,  "  be  the  element  of  least 
interest  of  all  in  the  country  whose  past  is  the  shortest 
of  any."  And  so  he  went  on  to  say,  that,  almost 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  Prince,  like  all 
other  travellers,  was  seeing  just  those  things  in  which 
nations  most  resemble  each  other,  and  was  seeing 
least  of  the  peculiarities  of  domestic  life  which  make 
nations  what  they  are,  and  different  from  each  other. 

This  gentleman,  whose  name  Haliburton  never  told 
me,  if  he  knew,  —  and  if  he  had  I  would  not  tell 
you,  —  said  this  was  true  enough;  but  he  did  not  see 
how  the  matter  could  be  mended.  Only  the  Caliph 
Alraschid  could  get  into  the  private  life  of  his  people ; 
and  it  might  be  doubted  whether  the  Vizier  Jaffir  had 
not  sold  the  Caliph  in  each  of  the  celebrated  visits 
of  inspection.  As  Haliburton  had  said,  private  life, 
because  it  was  private,  could  not  be  seen  in  a  public 
visit  of  ceremony. 

As  to  this,  Haliburton  said,  where  there  was  a  will 
there  was  a  way.  If  the  Prince,  or  any  gentleman 
of  his  suite,  wanted  to  see  private  life  in  Boston,  al 
most  any  man  of  sense  in  Boston  could  show  it  to  him. 
Whether  that  was  what  the  cortege  was  here  for  Hali 
burton  did  not  know.  He  had  sometimes  doubted 
whether  princes  saw  much  of  domestic  life  outside  of 
palaces  at  home,  —  or  if  they  wanted  to. 

His  friend  laughed,  and  said  he  could  not  say.  But 
he  did  think  that,  abroad,  a  traveller,  as  keen  as  his 
Royal  Highness,  wanted  to  see  what  there  was;  and  he 


108  THE  INCH  AM  PAPERS. 

ventured  to  say  that  he  would  be  very  much  obliged 
to  any  American  gentleman  who  could  put  him  in  the 
way  of  seeing  how  people  lived.  And  so  their  talk 
ran  on,  rather  more  into  detail ;  and  it  ended  in  Hali- 
burton's  promising  to  call  in  his  buggy  at  the  side-door 
of  the  Revere  House  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  day,  and  see 
if  there  was  anybody  who  cared  to  drive  round  Boston 
with  him.  Not  a  word  was  said  to  the  Prince,  or  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle,  nor  to  General  Bruce.  The  visit 
to  the  Library  was  ended,  and  they  all  went  home. 

The  next  morning  Haliburton  had  Peg  harnessed, 
and,  at  the  stroke  of  ten,  drove  up  at  the  Bulfinch 
Street  door.  Then,  he  says,  as  sure  as  Peg  is  a  living 
horse,  at  the  moment,  before  he  had  time  to  get  out  of 
the  carriage,  the  door  of  the  hotel  opened,  and  a  slight 
young  man,  of  fresh,  ruddy  face,  with  a  very  shiny 
hat,  looking  as  if  it  had  been  bought  that  morning, 
stepped  quickly  down,  looked  up  brightly  in  his  face, 
asked  if  he  were  Mr.  Haliburton,  and  stepped  in,  — 
Haliburton  making  room  for  him,  but  actually  not 
leaving  his  seat.  If  he  had  said,  "  Are  you  the  Prince 
of  Wales  ?  "  there  could  be  no  question  now  like  that 
at  the  head  of  this  article.  But  he  did  not  say  any 
thing  of  the  kind.  Either  he  was  dashed  by  the  pres 
ence  of  royalty  in  posse,  or  he  felt  too  certain  of  his 
passenger  to  ask,  or  he  felt  modest  and  thought  it 
would  be  impertinent.  The  young  gentleman  took 
the  left  side  of  the  seat.  Haliburton  lifted  the  reins. 
Peg  started,  and  they  drove  through  Bowdoin  Square 
into  Green  Street,  and  the  expedition  had  begun. 


DID  HE   TAKE  THE  PRINCE  TO  RIDE?  109 

After  a  word  or  two  of  mutual  civility,  Haliburton 
asked  his  friend  how  much  time  he  could  give  him. 
He  said  it  was  arranged  that  they  were  all  to  lunch 
together  at  three,  and  till  that  time  he  would  be  at 
Halibur ton's  service.  Haliburton  then  said  that  he 
had  undertaken  to  show  him  how  people  lived,  —  that, 
if  he  might  direct  the  morning,  he  would  try  to  bring 
into  it  as  much  variety  as  possible.  He  would  show 
his  friend  how  an  Irish  emigrant  lived  in  the  first 
month  after  his  landing.  He  would  show  him  how 
another  Irish  emigrant  lived  after  he  had  been  here 
five  years.  He  would  show  him  how  a  Vermont  me 
chanic  lived,  who  had  moved  here  from  the  country, 
and  was  at  work  on  wages.  He  would  show  him  how 
the  same  man's  cousin  lived,  who  had  been  twenty  years 
in  active  life,  and  had  made  his  fortune.  He  would 
show  him  as  well  how  another  emigrant  family  lived 
when  the  father  took  to  drink  and  went  to  the  dogs. 
And  he  would  show  him  how  the  staid  old  Bostonian 
lived  who  had  Copley's  pictures  of  his  great-grandfa 
thers  hanging  in  the  hall  and  the  dining-room,  —  who 
had  other  grandfathers  who  sold  stay-laces  in  Pudding 
Lane,  —  but  who,  for  all  that,  descended  from  higher 
families,  who  came  over  in  Winthrop's  fleet.  "  This 
is  a  small  town,"  said  Haliburton,  "and  I  think  we 
can  do  this,  though  not  in  this  order  perhaps,  before 
the  time  you  name." 

I  asked  Haliburton  once  how  he  called  his  incog, 
companion,  — whether  he  said  "  Uryness  "  to  him,  or 


110  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  Prince,"  or  assumed  the  familiar  "  Albert."  But 
Haliburton  said,  "  Do  I  call  you  '  Ingham '  all  the 
time,  or  '  Colonel,'  or  '  Parson,'  or  '  Fred,'  or  do  I  say 
*  you  '  ?  I  said  '  you  '  to  the  young  man,  whoever  he 
was,  and  he  said  4  you  '  to  me." 

I  may  not  get  the  order  of  their  morning  calls  right 
ly.  I  ought  to  say,  to  Haliburton's  credit,  that,  when 
ever  I  have  heard  him  tell  the  story,  he  has  told  it  at 
very  great  length,  and  with  much  detail.  I  hope 
this  is  not  important ;  for  what  with  not  listening 
always,  and  with  forgetting,  I  am  not  very  strong  on 
the  details.  But  I  am  sure  as  to  the  general  drift  of 
the  expedition. 

They  brought  up  first,  say  in  Seneca  Street,  or  one 
of  the  parallels,  at  a  three-story  tenement-house. 
Haliburton  jumped  out,  fastened  the  horse  by  his  iron 
weight,  which  he  wound  around  the  lamp-post,  and 
which  was  a  novelty  to  his  companion,  who  inspected 
the  simple  machinery,  and  asked  about  it  with  interest. 
Haliburton  bade  him  follow,  opened  the  front  door 
without  knocking,  and  pushed  up  two  flights  of  stairs. 
The  passage  was  dark,  and  had  that  odious  man-smell 
which  most  school-houses  and  prisons  have,  some  hos 
pitals  even,  and  the  halls  of  all  tenement-houses  which 
are  not  kept  under  very  strict  regime.  A  few  of  the 
banisters  were  knocked  out  from  the  .balustrade. 

Arrived  at  the  third  story  back,  Haliburton  knocked. 
"  Come  in  !  "  And  they  went  in.  A  room  twelve 
by  fourteen.  The  floor  white  with  sand  and  elbow- 


DID  HE   TAKE   THE  PEINCE  TO  RIDE?  Ill 

grease,  and  a  six-foot-square  bit  of  worn  carpet  in  the 
middle.  A  Banner  stove,  size  No.  3-|-,  well  cleaned 
with  black  lead,  without  fire,  in  front.  On  the  man 
tel,  a  china  image  of  St.  Joseph  with  the  infant  Sav 
iour  ;  a  canary-bird,  in  wax,  fastened  on  some  green 
leaves  ;  a  large  shell  from  the  West  Indies ;  a  kero 
sene  lamp  ;  three  leather-covered  books  without  titles 
on  their  backs ;  a  paper  of  friction-matches  ;  and  a 
small  flower-pot  with  a  bit  of  ivy  in  it,  — placed  in  the 
order  I  name,  going  from  right  to  left.  On  the  wall 
behind,  a  colored  lithograph  of  Our  Mother  of  the 
Bleeding  Heart,  —  her  bosom  anatomically  laid  open 
that  the  heart  might  be  seen,  —  and  the  color  repre 
sented  accurately  by  the  artist ;  another  colored  lith 
ograph  of  Father  Mathew ;  and  a  Connecticut  clock, 
with  the  fight  of  the  Constitution  and  Guerriere. 
Between  the  windows  another  colored  lithograph, 
"  Kathleen  Mavourneen  "  ;  table  under  it ;  a  rocking- 
chair  ;  four  wooden  chairs  ;  another  table  between  the 
doors  ;  small  bedstead  in  one  corner.  All  this  I  can 
describe  so  accurately  because  I  was  often  there,  and 
recollect  the  room  as  well  as  this  I  am  in. 

Mrs.  Rooney  rises,  as  they  enter,  from  a  settee  on 
rockers,  across  two  thirds  of  the  front  of  which  is  a 
rail,  —  convenient  cradle  and  rocking-chair  joined,  — 
puts  by  Rooney  fils  into  the  cradle  part,  and  steps  for 
ward  cheerfully,  neat  as  wax,  trig  and  bright. 

"  How  d'  ye  do,  Mrs.  Rooney  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Haliburton  ;  and  welcome  to  you. 
Won't  you  gentlemen  take  seats?  " 


112  THE  INGHAM  PAPEKS. 

"  This  is  my  friend  Mr.  Edward ;  Mrs.  Rooney ; 
he  is  riding  with  me  to-day." 

Mrs.  Rooney  quickly,  a  little  clumsily,  takes  the 
shiny  hat,  with  Haliburton's  felt,  puts  them  both  on 
the  table,  quite  unconscious  that  she  is  serving  the 
son  of  her  sovereign  (if,  indeed,  that  day  Haliburton 
did  take  the  Prince  to  ride).  That  was  the  first  and 
last  that  passed  between  her  and  him  during  the  call. 
He  kept  his  eyes  open ;  beckoned  to  little  Phil  Roo 
ney,  who  stood  in  the  corner  with  his  thumb  in  his 
mouth,  but  the  boy  would  not  come.  Not  that  he 
knew  a  Saxon  from  a  Kelt.  Duke  of  Saxony  was  all 
one  to  him  with  Brian  Boroghue ;  he  would  have 
come  to  neither.  The  Prince  (if  it  was  the  Prince) 
had  no  pence  or  lozenges,  or  did  not  know  enough  to 
produce  them.  The  conversation  was  all  between 
Haliburton  and  Mrs.  Rooney. 

"  Children  well  ?  " 

Yes,  pretty  well  ;  Phil  there  cutting  some  back 
teeth  ;  Terence,  a  bad  cold,  but  wanted  to  go  to  school 
again  ;  and  Miss  Cutter  had  been  round,  and  wanted 
him  to  go,  and  so  he  had  gone. 

"  All  three  at  school  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Delia  —  Bridget,  that  is,  but  she  likes  us  to 
call  her  Delia  —  is  at  school  still.  If  I  found  a  good 
place  at  service,  I  would  take  her  away.  But  she  is 
particular,  and  so  am  I.  Terry,  he  would  be  glad 
enough  to  be  out ;  but  his  father  says,  '  No  ;  if  there  's 
a  chance  for  learning,  the  boy  must  have  it.'  And 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE   PEINCE   TO   RIDE?  113 

the  boy,  if  he  is  my  boy,  is  a  good  boy  to  mind ;  and, 
if  he  is  fond  of  play,  he  does  well  at  school  too. 
Yonder  is  his  last  certificate,  and  there  is  the  other 
which  he  had  in  Miss  Young's  room." 

Delia,  it  seems,  or  Bridget,  has  three  certificates  ; 
but  her  father  has  sent  them  all  to  Borriscarra,  County 
Mayo,  province  of  Connaught.  Terry's  are  framed 
in  mahogany,  and  hang  above  the  Prince's  head  (if 
indeed  it  were  H.  R.  H.). 

"And  how  did  the  children  stand  the  summer?" 
They  had  not  stood  it  too  well.  Dreadfully  close 
some  of  those  hot  nights  !  Delia  made  a  visit  of  a 
week  at  Maiden,  and  Terry  made  friends  with  a  boy 
whose  father  sailed  from  Beverly  for  mackerel,  so  that 
he  was  away  all  the  vacations  ;  but  for  Mrs.  Rooney 
and  the  little  children  it  was  hard.  Indeed,  Mrs.  Roo- 
ney  often  thought  of  the  bit  cottage,  a  mile  outside  Bor 
riscarra,  as  you  go  to  Ballintubber,  and  could  not  but 
wish  that  her  children  had  the  chance  to  run  outdoors 
that  she  had  there.  On  this,  H.  R.  H.  (if  it  were  he) 
showed  signs  of  curiosity,  and  Haliburton,  having 
waited  in  vain  for  him  to  ask  the  question  he  wanted 
to,  put  it  himself. 

"  And  would  not  you  like  to  go  back  again,  Mrs. 
Rooney,  and  show  them  the  children,  and  live  in  the 
old  cottage  again  ?  " 

u  Indade,  no,  your  honors.  Dick  has  just  sent  out 
fifty-five  dollars  for  the  old  people,  and  we  expect 
them  before  Christmas  here.  What  should  we  do  at 

H 


11-i  THE   IKGHAM   PAPERS. 

Borriscarra  ?  The  times  are  harder  there  than  iver. 
Nothing  has  gone  well  with  them  since  the  Queen 
took  the  spinning-wheels  away !  " 

(Expression  of  surprise  on  the  younger  man's  face. 
But  he  says  nothing.) 

"  Then  why  does  not  Dick  go  up  country,  take 
a  bit  land  there  and  a  house,  and  let  the  children 
play  about  as  you  and  he  did  ?  "  persisted  the  perse 
vering  Haliburton.  And  for  an  answer  he  was  told 
that  indeed  Dick  would  be  glad  to  do  so,  and  that  he 
had  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  a  man  they  dealt 
with  at  the  yard,  who  owned  a  marble-quarry  near 
Rutland.  But  Bridget  must  be  at  service  soon.  She 
could  not  yet  find  a  good  place  for  her ;  and  they  were 
very  well  off  as  they  were,  and  so  on  and  so  on,  and 
so  forth  and  so  forth.  Haliburton  knew  too  much  to 
make  a  fuss  with  his  advice,  seized  his  felt,  gave  his 
companion  his  stove-pipe,  and  they  retired. 

"  What  did  she  mean  about  the  spinning-wheels  ?  " 
said  the  Englishman,  as  they  started  again.  And 
Haliburton  told  him  that  there  was  a  popular  super 
stition  among  five  or  six  millions  of  her  Majesty's 
subjects,  to  the  effect  that  the  decline  of  house-spin 
ning  was  due  to  an  edict  of  the  Queen,  that  spinning 
should  be  done  in  factories  rather  than  at  firesides. 
And  as  they  talked  thus  they  came  into  Osborn  Place, 
(not  Osborn  House,  Uryness,) — and  Haliburton  took 
his  friend  into  an  up-stairs  parlor  of  one  of  the  pretty 
suites  of  a  u  model  lodging-house." 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE  PRINCE   TO   RIDE?  115 

It  is  very  odd  how  this  word  "  model  "  is  changing 
its  meaning,  when  you  apply  it  to  such  places.  Often 
and  often  it  is  given  to  some  wretched  huddle  of 
crowded  rooms,  which  never  should  be  model  or  pat 
tern  for  anything.  I  am  not  sure  but  its  technical  use 
in  connection  with  lodging-houses  is  due  to  some 
model  houses  of  Prince  Albert's,  this  boy's  own  father. 
However  this  may  be,  the  houses  in  Osborn  Place  are 
models  which  I  wish  the  cities  of  the  world  would 
largely  follow.  Up  stairs  and  up  stairs,  a  good  many 
flights,  they  ran,  Haliburton  leading.  He  rang  at  the 
door-bell  when  they  reached  the  right  landing,  and 
pretty  Caroline  Freeman  opened  to  them,  and  ushered 
them  in. 

"  !  beg  y°ur  pardon,"  said  the  voluble  Haliburton, 
"  for  calling  before  hours,  but  you  and  I  are  not  for 
mal,  you  know.  My  friend  was  shy  of  coming  up, 
but  I  said  you  would  not  mind.  Mr.  Edward,  Miss 
Freeman,"  —  and  she  offered  them  chairs,  in  her  pret 
ty  parlor,  and  they  sat  down.  A  bright  view I 

know  not  how  many  miles  —  through  the  vines  and 
other  greenery  of  her  windows  ;  a  cheerful  glow  from 
the  bright  carpet ;  a  good  water-color  by  her  brother, 
—  scene  in  the  harbor  of  Shanghae,  or  Bussora,  or 
somewhere  outlandish,  no  matter ;  and  a  good  chro- 
molith.  But  to  my  mind,  always  the  prettiest  orna 
ment  was  Caroline  herself,  and  I  believe  her  visitors 
thought  so  then. 

Haliburton's   real   object   was   accomplished   when 


116  THE  INCH  AM  PAPERS. 

they  had  sat  long  enough  to  give  his  companion  a 
chance  to  see  the  room,  but  he  had  to  make  an  excuse 
for  coming  at  all.  He  was  going  down  to  Buzzard's 
Bay  for  some  shooting.  Could  not  Fred  come  with 
him?  Say  start  on  Thursday  and  be  back  Tuesday? 
Caroline  would  ask  Fred,  but  doubted.  Wished 
Fred  would  go,  for  Fred  was  low-spirited  arid  blue. 
He  had  been  disappointed  about  the  opening  at  Nag- 
uadavick  ;  they  had  determined,  after  all,  not  to  start 
their  steam-mill  this  winter.  Fred  had  had  full  prom 
ise  of  the  charge  of  the  eno-ine-room  there,  as  Hali- 

?T>  G  ' 

burton  knew;  but  this  threw  him  out  again,  —  and 
times  were  dull  everywhere,  and  he  said  he  was  fated 
to  get  nothing.  He  had  been  talking  with  the  chief 
at  the  navy-yard,  who  was  an  old  friend  of  his  ;  but 
there  was  no  chance  there,  and  no  chance  that  there 
would  be  a  chance.  She  would  rather  Fred  should  go 
to  sea  again  ;  he  was  always  better  at  sea. 

"  And  how  is  your  mother  ?  "  —  at  which  moment 
that  lady  appeared. 

I  never  can  describe  people,  but  you  all  of  you 
know  just  one  nice  person,  who,  at  forty,  looks  for 
sweetness  as  if  she  were  seventeen,  and  for  serenity 
as  if  she  were  seventy.  Well,  Mrs.  Freeman,  Car 
oline's  mother,  is  the  one  I  know.  She  would  not 
own  she  was  ill,  though  she  was  ;  she  said  she  was 
a  great  deal  better  than  she  had  been,  and  would  be  a 
great  deal  better  the  next  day,  —  for  all  which  it  was 
clear  enough  that  both  of  them  were  delicate.  A  pity 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE  PKINCE   TO  REDE?  117 

they  should  have  to  rough  it  through  here  in  this 
vilain  winter.  But  she  parried  all  talk  about  herself, 
and  in  a  moment  was  making  "  Mr.  Edward  "  talk ; 
had  he  been  travelling  far?  was  it  his  first  visit  West? 
was  he  fond  of  sporting?  were  the  Western  grouse 
like  the  Scotch  ?  and,  before  he  knew  it,  the  young 
Englishman  was  talking  rapidly;  Haliburton  chuck 
ling,  and  withdrawing  with  Caroline  into  an  aside, 
showing  her  a  memorandum  he  had  in  his  note-book. 
This  done,  the  other  two  were  not  done.  So  Halibur 
ton  and  she  kept  on  ;  —  her  maiden  article  in  "  Mer 
ry's  Museum";  Ingham's  (that's  my)  sermon  of 
Sunday  at  the  chapel  ;  the  Philharmonic  programme 
for  the  winter ;  Lucy  Coleman's  new  piano,  which 
Lucy  said  should  be  at  Caroline's  use  for  the  winter 
while  Lucy  was  in  Cuba,  and  so  on,  and  so  on.  At 
last  Haliburton  looked  at  his  watch,  and  told  the 
young  gentleman  they  must  go  ;  and  so  tore  him  away 
while  he  was  telling  how  they  ran  the  rapids  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Ottawa. 

"  Those  are  nice  people,"  said  he  ;  "  what  class  of 
society  are  they  of  ?  " 

"  'Umph,"  mused  Haliburton  aloud.  "  Classes  do 
not  divide  themselves  quite  so  distinctly  with  us  as 
with  you.  That  is  the  class  of  widows  in  delicate 
health  ;  who  live  in  an  upper  story  of  a  model  lodging- 
house,  supported  by  the  earnings  of  a  son  and  daugh 
ter,  neither  of  whom  is  of  age.  That  girl  will  to 
night  be  at  an  evening  music  party  of  fifty  of  the 


118  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

nicest  people  in  Boston,  and  to-morrow  morning  she 
will  be  in  the  basement  of  the  first  house  we  went  to, 
teaching  her  scales  on  the  piano  to  the  daughter  of 
a  well-to-do  Irish  stone-mason,  who  wants  his  girl 
to  learn  to  play,  at  fifty  cents  a  lesson.  I  never 
thought,"  added  Haliburton,  laughing,  "  that  Caroline 
Freeman  would  make  a  good  duchess ;  she  has  not 
weight  of  guns  enough,  aplomb,  or  self-assertion  for  a 
duchess  ;  but,  say  for  a  viscountess,  she  would  do 
nicely,  or  for  a  schoolmistress  in  Dubuque,  Iowa.  I 
am  not  sure  which  class  in  society  she  belongs  to." 

They  both  laughed,  and  Haliburton,  following  his 
hand,  rather  than  the  plan  which  he  had  laid  out  in 
the  morning,  crossed  the  town,  passing  the  Common, 
and  called  on  Lucy  Coleman,  to  see  what  she  could 
tell  him  about  Mrs.  Freeman's  cough.  It  is  a  way 
Haliburton  has  of  doing  one  thing  at  once,  —  he  calls 
it  making  one  hand  wash  another  ;  he  says  he  learned 
it  from  John  Jacob  Astor,  who  told  him,  the  only  time 
Haliburton  ever  saw  him  on  business  (Haliburton's 
father  had  a  lot  of  otter-skins),  that  he  should  like  to 
settle  the  matter  there  and  then,  that  he  never  might 
have  to  think  of  it  again,  or  see  Haliburton  himself 
more.  So,  I  say,  Haliburton,  forgetting  his  plan, 
drove  through  Charles  Street,  between  the  Public 
Garden  and  the  Common,  and  called  on  Lucy  Cole 
man. 

"  I  had  not  meant  to  come  here,"  said  he  to  the 
Prince  (if  it  w.  t.  P.),  as  they  left  the  carnage,  "  but 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE   PRINCE   TO   RIDE?  119 

it  is  as  well  as  if  we  had  gone  to  see  the  Copleys.  If 
there  are  no  Copleys  here,  —  and  by  the  way  there 
are,  —  there  are  others  as  good,  —  Allstons  and  Champ- 
neys." 

"  You  forget  that  I  do  not  know  what  Copleys  and 
Allstons  and  Champneys  are.  What  are  they?  — 
people,  or  things  to  eat,  or  fashions  of  clothes  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  forgot ;  they  are  pictures.  Copley  was  a 
bright  boy  here,  —  went  to  the  Latin  School,  where 
you  were  Tuesday,  and  painted  first-rate  portraits  a 
hundred  years  ago ;  then  went  to  England,  and  died 
there  twenty  years  before  you  were  born  ;  left  a  son 
you  have  seen,  your  old  Chancellor,  Lord  Lyndhurst. 
Allston  was  a  Carolinian,  who  lived  and  died  with  us, 
painted  such  landscapes,  and  such  lovely  faces  !  Look 
there  !  —  "  and  his  friend  was  by  this  time  absorbed 
in  the  exquisite  dream  of  beauty  before  him. 

Miss  Lucy  came  running  down  stairs.  "  I  saw 
your  carriage,  and  I  would  not  keep  you  waiting,"  she 
said,  and  then  paused,  seeing  the  stranger,  welcomed 
him,  and  made  no  further  apology.  It  was  still  long 
before  calling-hours,  but  she  had  bravely  run  down  in 
her  exquisite  morning  cashmere.  Haliburton  was, 
I  think,  rather  glad  that  he  had  been  moved  to  come 
round  here.  He  had  meant  fairly  to  show  the  Prince 
what  should  make  a  fair  average  of  life,  and  to  put  no 
best  foot  foremost.  He  knew,  however,  that  he  had 
lapsed  from  grace  in  going  up  to  the  Freemans'  rooms, 
—  that  there  were  ten  people  in  Osborn  Place,  not  near 


120  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

so  pretty  as  Caroline,  where  he  had  an  equal  right  to 
call.  But  here  he  had  called  fairly.  And  if  the  par 
lors  were  perfectly  furnished  and  hung,  if  the  half- 
dozen  pictures,  all  on  the  line  of  the  eye,  were  of  the 
choicest,  yes,  in  the  world  ;  if  the  little  low  book 
cases  were  tempting  in  what  they  revealed,  and 
tempting  in  what  they  concealed ;  if  the  two  or  three 
pamphlets  and  the  three  or  four  books  that  lay  loose 
were  of  just  the  latest  freshness,  and  most  appetizing 
qualities ;  if  the  cannel  coal  had  just  crusted  over  so 
that  the  room  was  not  a  bit  heated  by  it,  yet  so  that 
one  dig  from  the  steel  poker  would  wake  it  to  a  frenzy 
of  light  and  life,  —  was  this  any  fault  of  his.  Had  he 
chosen  to  come  here  ?  or  was  there  not  an  irresistible 
destiny  which  compelled  him  ?  Once  more  he  inti 
mated  that  he  brought  his  friend  up,  rather  than  leave 
him  in  the  carriage ;  the  young  man  sank  in  an  easy- 
chair,  with  a  volume  of  Darley's  prints,  and  Halibur- 
ton  and  Miss  Lucy  fell  to  talk  about  the  Freemans. 

Had  he  heard  ?  Did  she  know  ?  Yes,  he  knew 
this,  and  she  knew  that,  and  both  knew  this  and  that, 
and  she  had  not  heard  thus,  and  he  did  not  understand 
the  other,  and  so  on.  What  had  made  Haliburton  for 
get  the  Prince's  ride  was  his  uneasiness  about  Caro 
line's  flushed  face,  —  which  had  made  her  look  so  pret 
ty,  by  the  way,  —  and  his  determination  to  see  whether 
something  could  not  be  done  about  that  and  her  moth- 

O 

er's  cough.  So,  in  that  wild,  impulsive  way  of  his, 
instead  of  writing  a  note  to  Lucy  Coleman,  he  had 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE   PRINCE   TO   RIDE?  121 

slammed  right  over  there,  before  she  had  even  got  her 
morning-dress  off,  to  consult  with  her. 

But  nothing  could   be  done  about  it.     Lucy   had 
been  more   eager   than   he  ;  Lucy  had  been  begging 
Caroline  to  go  with  her  to  Charleston,  and  so  to  Cuba, 
and  then  to  Santa  Lucia  and  St.  Thomas.     Mr.  Cole- 
man  himself  had    been   interested    about   it,  —  knew 
how  much  pleasure  it  would  give  Lucy,  and  had  been 
down  to  call  on  Mrs.  Freeman.     But  they  said  they 
could  not  break   up  their  establishment.     Fred  must 
not  be  left  adrift  so  little  while  after  he  had  come  home  ; 
Fred  had  himself  tried  to  persuade  them,  but  they 
would  not  think  of  it.     As  to  the  cough,  Mrs.  Free- 
man  was  sure  it  would  be  better  the  next  week  ;  and 
as  for  the  flush,  Caroline  would  not  have  it  talked  of 
at  all.     So  Haliburton  had  had  his  ride  for  his  pains. 
"I  wish  you  could  manage  it,"  said  the  bright  young 
lady,  "  for  I  shall  lose  my  journey  if  something  does 
not  come  to  pass.     Papa  is  discouraged  already,  and 
would  give  it  all  up  in  two  seconds,  if  anything  else 
happened  amiss.     And  yet  he  will  not  go  unless  there 
is  somebody  I  like  who  will  go  with   me.     As  if  I 
could    not    take    care    of  myself!      True    enough,  I 
dread  the  idea,"  she  said,  rather  sadly,  and  Haliburton 
knew  she  was  thinking  of  her  last  journey. 

And  this  was  all  their  tSte-d-tSte.     She  laughed  at 

him  because  he  never  called  unless  he  had  an^  axe  to 

grind,  said  he  had  not  heard  her  new  piano,  and  never 

came  to  her  little  musical  parties.     He  said  he  never 

6 


122  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

was  asked  ;  and  she  said  he  never  came  when  he  was, 
but  had  a  general  invitation.  He  said  there  was  no 
time  like  the  present,  and  went  to  the  piano,  and 
opened  it.  She  readily  enough  consented  to  play, 
asked  what  she  should  play,  and  they  both  turned  to 
their  silent  companion,  who  had  put  down  his  u  Mar 
garet,"  and  crossed  the  room. 

Then  it  is  that  the  first  bit  of  evidence  as  to  the 
question  you  have  asked  me  comes  into  the  story. 
For  when  the  young  man  was  asked  what  Miss  Lucy 
should  play,  he  stammered  and  blushed,  and  ha-haed, 
and  bothered  generally,  and  finally  screwed  himself  up 
to  saying  that  there  were  some  very  nice  waltzes  by 
Strauss. 

Lucy  Coleman  did  n't  even  let  her  eyes  twinkle. 
She  took  care  not  to  look  at  Haliburton,  said  "  O  yes," 
very  sweetly,  and  blazed  away,  —  two,  three,  four 
good  brilliant  Strauss  waltzes.  Then  the  gentlemen 
thanked  her,  she  rewarded  Haliburton  by  a  little  scrap 
of  Mozart ;  he  said  they  must  not  stay,  and  tore  him 
self  and  his  young  friend  away.  But  when,  after 
wards,  she  was  told  that  this  young  man  was  the 
Prince,  she  said  "  No."  And  to  this  moment,  red- 
hot  pincers  would  not  persuade  her  that  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  the  son  of  Prince  Albert,  would  ask  her  to 
play  one  of  Strauss's  waltzes.  It  is  in  vain  that  we 
tell  her  of  the  glories  of  Strauss's  own  orchestra;  it  is 
in  vain  that  we  dwell  on  a  young  boy's  early  enthusi 
asm  for  the  Coldstream  Guards  and  their  band  ;  in 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE  PRINCE   TO  RIDE?  123 

vain  that  we  hint  at  a  fondness  for  dancing.     "  Nev- 

O 

er,"  she  cries  ;  "  the  blood-royal  never  asked  me  for 
Strauss."  I  even  sent  her  a  stray  programme  of  a 
concert  given  at  Windsor,  when  Saxe-Meiningen  came 
on  a  visit,  in  which  was  a  selection  of  these  waltzes 
played  for  his  delectation.  She  will  not  be  persuaded, 
nor  will  my  wife,  nor  will  Annie.  So  much  for  the 
high  classical ! 

They  went  away  from  Lucy's,  crossed  the  town 
again,  where  was  a  corduroy  road  two  hundred  years 
ago,  and,  by  way  of  contrast,  they  went  into  one  of  those 
man-sties  that  there  used  to  be  in  Orange  Lane,  running 
back  to  the  railroad.  Thank  God,  that  nuisance  is 
abated  now  !  there  are  wild  beasts  hard  by,  but  no  wild 
men  there  ;  and  I  will  not  tell  you  what  they  saw. 
John  Gough  would  tell  such  a  story  better  than  I 
should.  The  man  had  not  been  three  weeks  over  from 
Ireland.  He  had  been  drinking  the  spirits  of  the  new 
country  as  he  drank  the  beer  of  the  old,  and  was  wal 
lowing  there  on  the  pile  of  straw  on  one  of  those  dark 
back-bins,  without  a  window,  dead  asleep,  if  you 
call  that  sort  of  thing  "  sleep,"  after  last  night's 
"  spree."  And  his  wife  was  in  the  dirty  ten-foot 
room  front,  that  did  have  one  window,  offered  her  only 
chair  to  the  son  of  her  Queen  (if  it  were  he),  and 
apologized  that  it  had  no  back,  cuffed  the  child  with  the 
dirtiest  face,  and  laid  the  baby  on  the  straw  by  its 
father,  that  she  might  render  the  hospitalities  that  the 
position  permitted.  Ask  Mr.  Gough  for  the  detail. 


124  THE  INGHAM  PAPEES. 

Haliburton  forgot  what  sent  him  there,  as  he 
saw  the  wretchedness.  She  looked  wholly  broken 
down  ;  and  he,  of  course,  had  no  word  of  reproach 
for  her.  But  she  said  she  could  not  keep  things  nicer, 
and  nobody  who  saw  him  would  let  him  have  any  bet 
ter  room,  —  how  could  she  leave  the  children  ?  and 
what  could  she  do,  indeed,  but  die  ?  What  indeed  ? 
I  do  not  think  Haliburton  knew.  The  younger  man 
wanted  to  give  her  money,  but  Haliburton  would  not 
let  him.  "  If  you  like,"  said  he,  "  we  will  send  them 
some  meal  and  potatoes  ;  but  money  is  the  most  dan 
gerous  of  drugs,  as  it  is  the  cheapest,  for  the  relief  of 
suffering.  I  had  no  idea  things  would  be  so  bad,  or  I 
should  not  have  brought  you  here.  This  place,  you 
see,  is  a  little  neater,  and  this  and  this  quite  nice  in 
comparison,"  as  they  passed  one  and  another  of  the 
open  doors  of  that  old  rookery. 

"  Now  let  us  get  a  little  air  at  the  least "  ;  and  they 
drove  across  the  Dover -Street  Bridge,  and  came  out 
to  my  house.  I  was  then  living  in  D  Street,  over  in 
South  Boston.  Unfortunately,  I  was  out,  and  so  was 
Polly.  We,  as  I  have  said,  had  seen  the  Prince  in 
Cambridgeport ;  so,  if  we  had  been  in,  we  could  have 
answered  the  question.  But  I  was  at  a  meeting  of 
the  Board  for  providing  Occupation  for  the  Higher 
Classes  (mem.  "Boards  are  made  of  wood,  —  they 
are  long  and  narrow");  and  Polly  was  —  I  know 
not  where.  Haliburton  ran  in  without  ringing,  upset 
Agnes  and  Bertha,  found  we  were  out,  opened  the 


DID  HE   TAKE   THE  PEINCE   TO  EIDE?  125 

cake-box  himself,  and  got  out  doughnuts,  and  gave  an 
orange  also  to  his  companion,  besides  taking  one  for 
himself.  Thus  refreshed,  they  started  again,  —  this 
time,  I  believe,  to  hunt  up  his  Vermont  mechanic  who 
had  lived  here  twenty  years.  But,  just  as  they  left 
the  house,  Wingate  Paine  came  running  by;  and 
Haliburton  stopped  him,  and  introduced  him  to  Mr. 
Edward.  Mr.  Edward  was  studying  tenement-houses, 
he  said.  Could  Paine  take  him  in  the  buggy  over  to 
Washington  Village,  and  show  him  how  some  of 
their  operatives  lived  there  ? 

Certainly,  Wingate  could  and  would,  if  Mr.  Edward 
would  stop  a  moment  at  the  works.  He  was  already 
late  with  his  errand  there,  —  but  the  horse  and  buggy 
would  correct  all  that.  So  they  both  got  into  the 
carriage.  Haliburton  told  Paine  to  keep  it  as  long  as 
he  chose,  and  betook  himself  to  playing  with  Agnes  and 
Bertha,  and  cutting  pussy-cats  out  of  paper  for  Clara 
and  the  babies.  The  clock  struck  one  as  these  delights 

o 

engrossed  him,  —  struck  two,  indeed,  before  the  fifty- 
second  cat  had  been  added  to  the  long  procession,  and 
before  the  rattle  of  wheels  announced  the  young  men's 
return. 

"  We  took  you  at  your  word,"  said  Paine.  "  I 
have  shown  your  friend  the  tenement-houses,  and  half 
the  rest  of  the  town."  Haliburton  said  he  was  satis 
fied,  if  they  were,  —  that  there  was  still  full  time  to 
meet  the  latter  end  of  their  appointment.  Paine  bade 
good  by,  and  Haliburton  resumed  the  reins.  His 


126  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

companion  told  him  that,  when  they  came  to  thelron- 
works,  he  had  been  interested  by  the  processes  he  saw 
there,  which  were,  strange  to  say,  new  to  him  ;  that 
Mr.  Paine  offered  at  once  to  show  him  the  varieties  of 
South  Boston  iron-work.  They  had  been  in  at  Alger's 
to  see  cannon  cast ;  they  had  seen  wire  drawn  at  an 
other  mill,  and,  I  believe,  rails.  u  Oddly  enough,"  he 
said^  —  "  though  the  world  is  very  small,  after  all,  — 
we  met  Mr.  Coleman  at  their  first  establishment,  the 
father  of  your  pretty  friend.  I  think,  indeed,  Mr. 
Paine  said  he  was  President  of  their  Company." 
Haliburton  said  "  Yes."  "  He  talked  to  Mr.  Paine 
about  his  proposed  journey,"  said  the  other ;  "  he 
seemed  a  little  annoyed  at  the  delay;  said  to  Mr. 
Paine  that,  if  he  could  get  off,  he  should  want  to 
place  him  in  the  counting-room  in  town,  and  send 
some  one  else  out  to  the  works ;  hoped  he  would  like 
that,  for  he  should  be  much  more  at  ease  if  the  corre 
spondence  were  in  Paine's  hands.  Then  he  was  very 
civil  to  me,  thougli  he  did  not  know  me  from  Adam. 
He  took  us  across  to  the  Cronstadt  Works,  and  was 
at  the  pains  to  stop  one  of  the  rollers  for  me,  that  I 
might  see  how  the  power  was  applied.  So  I  took  my 
first  apprenticeship  in  iron-work.  George !  it  does 
one  good  to  see  those  brave  fellows  handle  those  hot 
blooms,  push  them  up  so  relentlessly  to  the  rolls,  and 
compel  the  rolls  to  bite  them,  whether  they  will  or  no  ! 
I  should  have  got  mad  with  the  machines,  but  the  men 
seemed  to  have  gained  the  imperturbability  of  the 


DID  HE  TAKE   THE  PRINCE   TO  RIDE?  127 

great  engine  itself.  And  then,  when  the  bloom  is 
once  between  the  rolls,  there  is  nothing  more  for  it  but 
to  succumb. 

'  Fine  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less,' 

with  a  vengeance ;  for,  before  you  are  done  with  it, 
you  see  the  great  stupid  block  transformed  into  a  spin 
ning,  spitfire  serpent,  hundreds  of  yards  long,  writhing 
all  over  the  floor." 

This  was  the  longest  speech  which  anything  drew 
from  this  young  gentleman.  After  following  through 
the  various  iron-works,  giving  up  Loring's  iron  ship 
yard  for  lack  of  time,  they  had  gone  to  the  new 
tenement-houses,  and  so  back  to  D  Street."  As  Hali- 
burton  crossed  the  bridge  again,  his  friend  reminded 
him  of  the  meal  and  potatoes  ;  they  stopped  at  a  shop, 
and  ordered  these  to  be  delivered  to  Michael  Fogarty, 
and  drove  on,  with  Haliburton's  last  call  in  view, 
when  — 

Ge-thump  ;  ge-thump  again  ;  once  more  ge-thump  ; 
a  sharp  strain  on  the  reins,  pulling  Haliburton  over 
the  dasher ;  dasher,  Haliburton,  and  friend  then  all 
rapidly  descend  into  the  street,  — •  horse,  reins,  front- 
axle,  and  wheels  depart  at  the  rate  of  5.20,  hind 
wheels,  gentlemen,  and  buggy-top  picking  themselves 
up  as  they  could.  There  had  been  something  amiss 
in  the  paving,  the  king-bolt  had  parted,  and  the  buggy 
had  broken  in  two. 

"  What  I  thought  of,"  said   Haliburton,    "  was  this, 


128  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

What  is  the  name  of  this  man's  oldest  brother  ?  For, 
if  I  have  broken  his  neck,  I  have  broken  the  suc 
cession.  But  I  had  not  broken  his  neck  at  all.  He 
was  up  on  the  other  side  as  soon  as  I  was.  His  nose 
was  bleeding,  but  he  was  laughing.  I  made  a  thousand 
apologies,  led  him  out  of  the  crowd  upon  the  sidewalk, 
terrified  lest  we  should  be  recognized ;  saw  to  my  joy 
that  we  were  on  Adoniram  Newton's  doorstep  ;  rang, 
and  after  waiting  two  or  three  minutes  we  were  let  in." 

Curious  feature  that  of  half  the  doorsteps  in  New 
England !  South  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  the 
instinct  of  curiosity  sends  the  black  servant  to  the 
door  in  two  seconds,  when  the  bell  rings,  to  know 
what  has  turned  up.  But  with  us,  Bridget,  hard 
worked,  not  looking  very  trig,  loiters  and  loiters, — 
hopes,  indeed,  that  something  may  turn  up.  Carter 
has  a  clever  little  sketch-book,  of  street  incidents, 
which  he  has  drawn  while  waiting  on  doorsteps.  He 
keeps  it  in  his  ticket  pocket  outside.  Indeed,  it  was 
always  said  that  Wetherell  and  his  wife  made  each 
other's  acquaintance,  and  were  engaged,  on  Boston 
doorsteps.  Some  malicious  gossip  had  started  the 
story  that  they  were  engaged,  when  they  did  not  know 
each  other  by  sight.  They  went  round  to  contradict 
it.  The  town  was  smaller  than  it  is  now  ;  and  they 
spent  so  much  time  on  different  doorsteps,  that,  be 
fore  the  report  was  contradicted,  he  had  offered 
himself  to  her,  and  it  was  true  ! 

At  last  Haliburton  and  friend  got  into  the  hall  at 


DID   HE   TAKE   THE  PRINCE   TO   RIDE?  129 

Adoniram's.  Then,  with  great  difficulty,  Bridget  got  the 
parlor  door  unlocked  !  It  was  dark,  and  had  the  smell  of 
seven  years  before  on  it,  as  if  it  had  not  been  opened 
since  Thanksgiving  of  1852.  Haliburton  bade  Bridget 
call  her  mistress,  pulled  up  the  green  shades  and  the 
other  shades  with  unnecessary  indignation,  thrust  open 
one  set  of  blinds,  and  revealed  a  magnificent  velvet 
carpet  of  very  positive  colors,  and  very  large  figures. 
Upon  the  walls,  covering  their  part  of  the  gilded 
paper-hangings,  were  two  immense  mirrors  and  four 
prints,  selected  for  their  size,  so  that  they  might  con 
ceal  as  much  as  possible.  Two  china  dancing-girls 
and  an  Odd  Fellows'  Manual  made  up  the  ornament 
of  the  room.  Here  again  they  soon  completed  their 
survey  of  the  ornaments;  Haliburton  stood  at  the 
window  watching  the  policemen  who  watched  the 
wreck  of  his  carriage,  chafing  as  he  waited  for  Mrs. 
Adoniram  ;  his  companion's  handkerchief  grew  redder 
and  redder,  and  at  last  she  came,  radiant  in  wine- 
colored  moire-antique,  gold  chain,  eye-glass  tucked  in 
her  belt,  showy  cap,  and  so  on. 

Haliburton  made  "  short  explanations,"  as  Neptune 
said  on  an  occasion  not , dissimilar.  He  begged  for  a 
basin  of  water  ;  and  so  at  the  very  moment  when  Mrs. 
Newton  was  internally  fretting  because  the  school- 
committee  men  of  their  ward  had  refused  her  a  ticket 
to  the  Music  Hall,  so  that  she  could  not  hear  the 
thousand  children  sing  "  God  save  the  Queen  "  to  the 
Prince,  —  at  that  moment,  I  say,  had  she  but  known 

6* 


130  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

it,  her  hands  were  occupied  in  unbuttoning  his  wrist 
bands  for  him,  and  in  holding  the  towel,  as  he  chilled 
the  wounded  blood-vessels,  and  stopped  the  blood  of 
Egbert  as,  after  a  thousand  years,  it  dropped  from  his 
nose;  for  that  this  was  the  blood  of  Egbert  is  certain, 
whether  this  were  the  Prince  or  no  !  "  Whoever  you 
are,  reader,"  says  Dr.  Palfrey,  wisely,  "  whose  eye 
lights  upon  these  lines,  if  you  be  of  Anglo-Saxon 
lineage,  it  is  certain  that  the  blood  of  King  Egbert 
runs  in  your  veins  !  It  is  as  certain  that  it  meets 
there  with  the  blood  of  Egbert's  meanest  thrall !  " 
Haliburton  saw  the  bathing  process  well  started,  and 
then  rushed  out  to  find  officer  No.  67  leading  back 
Peg  after  her  run,  the  wheels  still  whole.  The  box 
under  the  seat  furnished  a  new  king-bolt,  a  New 
Worcester  wrench  fitted  the  new  nut,  and  by  the  time 
the  Egbert  blood  was  stopped,  and  the  hands  were 
washed,  the  renovated  carriage  was  at  the  door.  I 
would  give  sixpence  to  know  what  Mr.  Edward  had 
said  to  Mrs.  Adoniram  meanwhile,  and  what  she  had 
said  to  him.  Whether  he  found  out  how  people  live 
in  those  desolate  bowling-alley  parlors,  or  whether  he 
found  that  they  never  live  there,  I  do  not  know.  I 
do  not  believe  that  centre-table  was  ever  put  to  half 
such  useful  service  before. 

u  We  must  give  up  our  last  calls,"  said  Haliburton, 
after  he  had  apologized  once  more  for  the  accident, 
and  holding  Peg  in  hand  a  little  more  carefully ;  "  I 
had  other  varieties  of  home  to  show  you." 


DID   HE  TAKE  THE  PRINCE  TO  RIDE?  131 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  other,  "  no  two  homes  are 
alike,  —  bat,  really,  what  we  have  seen  has  interested 
me  immensely.  I  was  thinking,"  he  added  in  a  mo 
ment,  "  that  the  young  man  we  did  not  see  holds  the 
key  of  the  position." 

Haliburton  did  not  understand,  and  had  the  sense 
to  say  so. 

"  Why,  don't  you  see,  if  this  young  Mr.  Freeman 
—  Fred,  his  sister  called  him  —  should  get  a  position 
at  sea  again,  his  mother  would  go  to  Rehoboth  to  her 
sister's,  and  Miss  Caroline  could  join  the  Cuba  party." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Haliburton. 

"  If  Miss  Caroline  would  say  she  would  go,  that 
impetuous  Mr.  Coleman  and  your  bright  Miss  Lucy 
would  sail  next  week  for  Charleston." 

"  I  know  they  would,"  said  Haliburton. 

"  In  that  event,  Mr.  Paine,  here,  would  be  pro 
moted  into  the  city  counting-room,  and  his  salary  would 
be  raised.  He  would  be  married,  I  know  ;  for,  though 
he  said  no  word  of  it,  I  could  see  that  he  is  engaged 
to  somebody." 

"  It  is  to  Sybil  Throop,  over  in  the  Arbella  School," 
said  Haliburton. 

"  I  think,"  continued  the  other,  "  that  such  a  couple 
as  that,  moving  into  the  Freeman's  suite  of  rooms, 
would  like  to  take  Delia  Rooney  to  service,  and,  if  it 
were  my  business,  I  should  advise  Mrs.  Rooney  to 
place  her  there." 

Haliburton  stared  aghast  at  these  words  of  wisdom 
from,  lips  so  young. 


132  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  Then  the  Rooneys  could  go  up  to  the  stone-quarry, 
as  she  evidently  wanted  to  ;  and  I  should  think  you 
might  arrange  that  that  drunken  beast  and  his  wife 
might  be  transferred  from  their  den  one  peg  up  to 
the  other's  better  quarters.  If  I  have  read  to-day's 
lesson  well,  it  is  the  lesson  of  keeping  open  the  lines 
of  promotion.  That,  Mr.  Haliburton,  is  the  duty  of 
a  free  country  !  " 

And  here  they  came  to  the  private  entrance  of  the 
Revere  again.  Haliburton  had  no  moment  to  answer 
this  address,  or  even  to  comment  on  it.  His  com 
panion  asked  him  to  come  in.  He  declined,  and  the 
clock  struck  three. 

Haliburton  drove  slowly  home,  meditating  on  the 
plan  of  promotion  which  the  youngster  had  blocked 
out  for  him.  He  was  himself  not  then  married.  He 
was  in  a  Life  Office,  I  think,  and  had  begged  a  holi 
day  for  the  day,  borrowing  Danforth's  horse  and  car 
riage  for  this  expedition,  —  as  we  all  did,  whenever 
Danforth  was  stationed  here.  He  came  over  at  once 
to  our  house,  and  astonished  us  by  telling  us,  "  How 
he  took  the  Prince  to  ride  !  " 

But  the  next  morning,  as  I  said,  when  we  read  the 
"  Advertiser,"  it  taught  us  how  a  guard  of  police  had 
marched  the  Prince  to  the  City  Hall,  and  how  he  and 
the  mayor  and  aldermen  had  spent  the  day  in  visiting 
penitentiaries  and  hospitals. 

How  could  this  be  ? 

I  do  not  know.     Haliburton  does  not  know.     If 


DID  HE   TAKE  THE  PRINCE  TO  RIDE?  133 

you  write  to  England  they  will  say  General  Brace  is 
dead,  and  that  they  do  not  know  themselves.  Only 
the  Prince  knows,  and  it  is  not  proper  to  write  to  him. 
Polly  and  I,  who  had  seen  the  real  Prince,  quizzed 
Haliburton  unmercifully.  We  said  he  had  spent  the 
whole  morning  with  a  Canadian  dry-goods  clerk  from 
Toronto,  who  had  come  East,  for  the  first  time,  to 
buy  an  assorted  stock  of  winter  goods,  and  mistook 
Haliburton  for  a  drummer  whom  he  had  met  in  the 
hotel  reading-room  the  night  before,  —  and  I  believe 
myself  it  was  so. 

But  the  next  Tuesday  Haliburton  had  the  laugh  on 
us.  The  Prince  bade  good  by  to  Boston,  went  to 
Portland,  and  embarked.  And,  the  evening  of  the 
day  he  got  to  Portland,  Haliburton  received  from 
Portland  an  immense  envelope,  with  an  immense 
seal.  Opened,  it  proved  to  contain  a  warrant :  — 

"  For  Mr.  Frederic  Freeman  of  Boston,  appointing 
him  first  assistant  engineer  on  her  Majesty's  steamer 
Stromboli,  with  instructions  to  report  at  Halifax." 

Fred  reported  at  Halifax,  and  is  in  the  Queen's 
service  to  this  hour. 

Mrs.  Freeman  broke  up  housekeeping,  and  went  to 
Rehoboth  or  Swansea,  and  Caroline  went  to  Cuba 
with  the  Colemans. 

Wingate  Paine  was  promoted  to  a  salary  of  two 
thousand  dollars,  and  married  Sybil  Throop,  and  went 
to  live  in  the  Freemans'  rooms  in  Osborn  Place. 
They  took  Delia  Rooney  for  their  maid  of  all  work. 


134  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

The  Rooneys  went  to  Chittenden,  above  Rutland. 
He  owns  a  marble-quarry  in  that  region  now,  and 
gratefully  sent  Haliburton  a  present  of  two  grave 
stones  last  week. 

Haliburton  got  Mr.  Way  to  let  the  Rooneys'  two 
rooms  to  the  Fogartys  ;  made  Fogarty  take  the  pledge 
in  compensation.  He  took  the  place  below  Rooney 
in  the  stone-yard;  and  really,  the  last  time  I  was 
there,  they  were  all  so  decent  that  I  called  the  oldest 
girl  Delia  instead  of  Margaret,  as  if  she  were  a 
Rooney,  forgetting  that  nine  years  had  gone  by. 

The  only  person  whose  condition  could  not  be 
improved,  of  all  they  saw  that  morning,  was  Mrs. 
Adoniram  Newton.  For  she  lived  in  a  palace  already. 

All  this  I  know.  But,  as  I  said,  I  cannot  answer, 
when  you  ask  me,  "  Did  Haliburton  take  the  Prince 
to  ride  ?  " 


HOW  MR.  FRYE  WOULD  HAVE 
PREACHED  IT. 


[THIS  sermon  was  first  published  in  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly  " 
for  February,  1867.  My  friend,  Mr.  Robert  Colly er,  in  a  public 
criticism  of  it,  takes  issue  with  Mr.  Frye  for  saying  that  extra 
wages  had  worked  him  woe.  Mr.  Collyer  says  it  has  not  been 
so  with  him, — that  "  extra  money  "  has  been  a  great  comfort  to 
him.  This  I  can  well  believe.  But  he  adds,  that  to  many  work 
men  it  is  a  snare  and  delusion.  Mr.  Frye,  many  of  whose  fail 
ings  are  studied  from  the  life,  is  one  of  them. 

The  sermon,  which  Mr.  Frye  heard  the  strange  minister 
preach  in  the  new  church  was  printed  in  the  "  Christian  Reg 
ister  "  the  week  that  Mr.  Frye's  was  printed  in  the  "  Atlantic." 
It  has  since  been  reprinted  by  the  American  Unitarian  Associa 
tion.] 


MR.  FRYE  and  his  little  wife  live  at  our  house. 
They  took  a  room  for  themselves  and  their  little  girls, 
with  full  board,  last  December,  when  the  Sloanmakers 
went  to  Illinois.  This  is  how  it  happened  that  one 
Sunday,  after  dinner,  in  quite  an  assembly  of  the  full 
boarders  and  of  the  breakfast  boarders  also,  all  of 
whom,  except  Mr.  Jeffries,  dine  with  us  on  Sunday, 
Mr.  Frye  told  how  he  would  have  preached  it. 


136  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

What  made  this  more  remarkable  was,  that  the 
Fryes  are  not  apt  to  talk  about  themselves,  or  of  their 
past  life.  I  think  they  have  always  been  favorites  at 
the  table ;  and  Mrs.  Frye  has  been  rather  a  favorite 
among  the  "  lady  boarders."  But  none  of  us  knew 
much  where  they  had  been,  excepting  that,  like  most 
other  men,  he  had  been  in  the  army.  He  brought  out 
his  uniform  coat  for  some  charades  the  night  of  the 
birthday  party.  But  till  Sunday  week,  I  did  not 
know,  for  one,  anything  about  the  things  he  told  us, 
and  I  do  not  think  any  one  else  did. 

Every  one  had  been  to  church  that  Sunday  in  the 
morning.  Mrs.  Whittemore  gives  us  breakfast  on 
Sunday  only  half  an  hour  late,  and  almost  all  of  us  do 
go  to  church.  I  believe  the  Wingates  went  out  to 
Jamaica  Plains  to  their  mother's,  but  I  am  almost  sure 
every  one  else  went  to  church.  So  at  dinner,  natu 
rally  enough,  we  talked  over  the  sermons  and  the  ser 
vices.  The  Webbers  had  found  Hollis  Street  shut, 
and  had  gone  on  to  Mr.  Clarke's,  where  they  had  a 
sort  of  opening  service,  and  a  beautiful  show  of  fall 
flowers,  that  some  of  their  orphan  boys  had  sent.  Mr. 
Ray  is  rather  musical.  He  told  about  a  new  Te  Deum 
at  St.  Peter's.  The  Jerdans  always  go  to  Ashburton 
Place.  They  had  heard  Dr.  Kirk.  But  it  so  hap 
pened  that  more  of  us  than  usual  had  been  to  the  new 
church  below  Clinton  Street.  We  had  not  found  Dr. 
Willis  there,  however,  but  a  strange  minister.  Some 
said  it  was  Mr.  Broadgood,  one  of  the  English  dele- 


HOW  MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      137 

gates.  But  I  knew  it  was  not  lie.  For  he  said,  "  If 
you  give  an  inch  they  take  an  ell,"  and  this  is  a  sen 
tence  the  English  delegates  cannot  speak.  The  sexton 
thought  it  was  Mr.  Hapgood,  from  South  Norridge- 
wock.  I  asked  Mr.  Eels,  one  of  the  standing  com 
mittee,  and  he  did  not  know.  No  matter  who  it  was. 
He  had  preached  what  I  thought  was  rather  above  the 
average  sermon,  on  "  The  way  of  transgressors  is 
hard." 

Well,  we  got  talking  about  the  sermon.  My  wife 
liked  it  better  than  I  did.  George  Fifield  liked  it 
particularly,  and  quoted,  or  tried  to  quote,  the  close  to 
the  Webbers  ;  only,  as  he  said,  he  could  not  remember 
the  precise  language,  and  it  depended  a  good  deal  on 
the  manner  of  the  delivery.  Mrs.  Watson  confessed 
to  being  sleepy.  Harry  said  he  had  sat  under  the 
gallery,  and  had  not  heard  much,  which  is  a  less 
gallant  way  of  making  Mrs.  Watson's  confession. 
The  Fryes  were  both  at  church.  They  sat  with  me 
in  Mrs.  Austin's  pew.  They  were  the  only  ones  who 
said  nothing  about  the  sermon.  Mrs.  Frye  never  does 
say  much  at  table.  But  at  last  the  matter  became 
quite  the  topic  of  after-dinner  discussion ;  and  I  said 
to  Frye  that  we  had  not  had  his  opinion. 

"  O,"  said  he,  "  it  was  well  enough.  But  if  I  had 
had  that  text,  I  should  not  have  preached  it  so." 

"  How  would  you  have  preached  it  ?  "  said  Harry, 
laughing. 

Oddly  enough,  Frye's  face  evidently  flushed  a  little ; 


138  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

but  he  only  said,  "  Well,  not  so,  —  I  should  not  have 
preached  it  that  way." 

I  did  not  know  why  the  talk  should  make  him 
uncomfortable,  but  I  saw  it  did,  and  so  I  tried  to 
change  the  subject.  I  asked  John  Webber  if  he  had 
seen  the  Evening  Gazette.  But  Harry  has  no  tact ; 
and  after  a  little  more  banter,  in  which  the  rest  of 
them  at  that  end  of  the  table  joined,  he  said :  "  Now, 
Mr.  Frye,  tell  us  how  you  would  have  preached  it." 

Mr.  Frye  turned  pale  this  time.  He  just  glanced 
at  his  wife,  and  then  I  saw  she  was  pale  too.  But 
whatever  else  Frye  is,  he  is  a  brave  man,  and  he  has 
very  little  back-down  about  him.  So  he  took  up  the 
glove,  and  said,  if  we  had  a  mind  to  sit  there  half  an 
hour,  he  would  tell  how  he  would  have  preached  it. 
But  he  did  not  believe  he  could  in  less  time.  Harry 
was  delighted  with  anything  out  of  the  common  run, 
and  screamed,  "  A  sermon  from  Mr.  Frye! — a  ser 
mon  from  Mr.  Frye  !  —  reported  expressly  for  this 
journal.  No  other  paper  has  the  news."  Poor  Mrs. 
Frye  said  she  must  go  up  and  see  to  her  baby,  and  she 
slipped  away.  A  gentleman  whom  I  have  not  named 
said,  in  rebuke  of  us  all,  that  we  might  be  better  em 
ployed,  and  he  left  also.  He  is  preparing  for  a  Sun 
day  paper  a  series  of  sketches  of  popular  preachers, 
and  it  is  my  opinion  that  he  spent  that  afternoon  in 
writing  his  account  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Smith.  I  do  not 
know,  but  I  used  to  think  he  was  a  correspondent  of 
the  New  York  Observer,  for  I  noticed  once  that  he 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      139 

spoke  of  Jacqueline  Pascal  as  if  Jacqueline  were  a 
man's  name,  and  as  if  she  wrote  the  Pensees.  When 
they  were  gone,  Mr.  Frye  told  us 

HOW  HE  SHOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT. 

"  I  should  have  said,"  said  Mr.  Frye,  "  that^when 
Jenny  and  I  were  married,  fourteen  years  ago,  at  Mil- 
fold,  there  was  not  so  good  a  blacksmith  as  I  in  that 
part  of  Worcester  County.  To  be  a  good  blacksmith 
in  a  country  town  requires  not  only  strength  of  arm, 
and  a  reasonably  correct  eye,  but  a  good  deal  of  nerve. 
And  when  I  first  worked  at  the  trade,  and  after 
wards  here,  once  when  I  worked  in  Hawley  Street  for 
good  Deacon  Safford,  I  got  the  reputation  of  being 
afraid  of  nothing.  And  I  think  I  deserved  it  as  far  as 
any  man  does.  Certainly  I  was  not  easily  frightened. 
So  it  happened  that  I  was  at  work  for  the  Semple 
Brothers,  in  Milfold,  at  the  highest  journeyman's 
wages,  and  with  lots  of  perquisites  for  shoeing  the  ugly 
horses.  For  a  circle  of  fifteen  miles  round  there  was 
not  a  kicking  brute  of  the  Cruiser  family  who,  in  the 
end,  was  not  brought  to  our  shop  for  Heber  Frye  to 
shoe.  I  have  shod  horses  from  Worcester,  who  came 
down  with  all  four  of  their  shoes  off  because  nobody 
dared  touch  them.  Now  in  the  trade  all  such  work  is 
well  paid  for.  As  I  say,  I  had  the  highest  journey 
man's  wages.  And  in  any  such  hard  case  I  was  paid 
extra  ;  and  as  likely  as  not,  if  they  had  had  trouble,  I 


140  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

got  a  present  beside.  The  Semples  liked  the  reputa 
tion  their  shop  was  getting ;  and  so,  though  I  was  a 
little  fast,  and  would  be  off  work  at  working  hours 
sometimes,  they  kept  me  ;  and  if  I  had  chosen  to  lay 
up  money,  I  could  have  made  myself — what  I  never 
did  make  myself — a  forehanded  man. 

"  Well,  I  fell  in  with  Jenny  there.  And  while  we 
were  engaged  she  took  care  of  me,  and  made  me  stick 

O     O 

to  work,  and  kept  me  near  her.  I  did  not  want  any 
other  excitement,  and  I  did  not  want  any  other  com 
panion.  She  would  not  go  where  I  could  drink,  and 
I  would  not  go  anywhere  where  she  did  not  go.  And 
for  the  six  months  of  our  engagement  I  was  amazed 
to  find  how  rich  I  was  growing.  When  we  were 
married  I  was  able  to  furnish  the  house  prettily,  —  as 
nicely  as  any  man  in  Milfold,  —  though  it  was  on  a 
baby-house  scale,  of  course.  But,  as  Tom  Hood's 
story  says,  we  had  six  hair-cloth  chairs,  a  dozen  sil 
ver  spoons,  carpet  on  every  room  in  the  house,  and 
everything  to  make  us  comfortable." 

But  here  Mr.  Frye  stopped  and  said  :  "  This  is  go 
ing  to  be  a  longer  sermon  than  I  supposed,  and  those 
of  you  who  are  going  to  meeting  had  better  go,  for 
I  hear  the  Old  South  bell."  But  nobody  started. 
Even  Mrs.  Whittemore  held  firm,  only  moving  her 
chair  so  that  Isabel  might  take  the  dirty  plates.  The 
rest  of  us  moved  up  a  little  way,  and  Mr.  Frye  went 
on. 

"  We  were  married,  and  we  lived  as  happily  as  could 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED   IT.      141 

be,  —  a  great  deal  more  happily  than  I  deserved,  and 
almost  as  happily  as  my  wife  deserves,  even.     But,  I 
tell  you,  there  is  nothing  truer  than  the  saying,  4  Easy 
earned,  easy  spent ' ;    and  I   believe  that  perquisites 
and  fees,  unexpected  and  uncertain  remunerations,  are 
apt  to  be  rather  bad  for  a  man.     At  least  they  make  a 
sort  of  excuse  for  a  man.     I  never  could  be  made  half  as 
careful  as  Jenny  is,  or  as  I  had  better  be.    I  spent  pretty 
freely.     I  liked  to  spend  money  on  her.     And  then  I 
would  get  short ;  and  then  I  would  find  myself  hop 
ing  some  half-broken,  kicking  beast  would  be  brought 
in,  which  nobody  could  manage  but  me.      And  if  one 
came,  and  I  managed  him,  and  shod  him,  instead  of 
feeling  proud  of  the  victory,  as  I  fairly  might,  I  would 
feel  cross  if  the  owner  did  not  hand  me  a  dollar-bill 
extra  as  he  went  away.     Then  I  knew  this  was  mean  ; 
and  then  I  would  be  mad  with  myself;  and  then,  as  I 
went  home,  I  would  stop  at  Williams's  or  Richards's, 
and  get  something  to  drink;    and  then,  when  I  got 
home,  I  would   scold    Jenny;    and    after    the    baby 
came  I  would  swear  at  the  baby  if  she  cried;   and 
then  Jenny  would  cry,  and  then  I  would  swear  again ; 
and  I  would  go  out  again,  and  meet  some  of  the  fel 
lows  at  Edwards's,  and  would  not  know  when  I  came 
home  at  night,  and  would  be  down  at  the  shop  late 
the  next  morning,  and,  what  was  worse,  had  not  the 
nerve   and  grit  which  had  given  me  the  reputation 
I  had  there.     Dutch  courage,  for  practical  purposes, 
ranks  with  Dutch  gold-leaf  or  German  silver. 


142  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

"  Well,"  said  Fiye,  rather  pale  again,  but  trying  to 
laugh  a  little,  "  perhaps,  my  beloved  hearers,  you 
don't  know  what  this  sort  of  thing  is.  If  you  don't, 
lucky  for  you.  When  they  asked  that  Brahmin,  Gan- 
gooly,  if  he  believed  in  hell,  he  said  he  believed  there 
were  a  good  many  little  hells,  as  he  walked  through 
Washington  Street  to  come  to  the  church  that  evening. 
If  he  had  come  into  my  house  almost  any  evening,  he 
would  have  found  one.  Poor  Jenny  did  her  best. 
But  a  woman  can't  do  much.  It  is  not  coaxing  you  want. 
You  know  it 's  hell  a  great  deal  better  than  anybody  can 
tell  you.  It  is  will  you  want.  You  can  make  good 
enough  resolutions  about  it ;  the  thing  is  to  keep  them. 
All  this  time  the  Semples  were  getting  cross.  At  last 
they  got  trusteed  for  my  wages.  And  old  Semple  told 
me  he  would  discharge  me  if  it  ever  happened  again. 
Then  one  day,  Tourtellot's  black  mare  got  away  from 
me,  knocked  me  down,  and  played  the  old  Harry 
generally  in  the  shop ;  and  the  other  hands  said  it  was 
because  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing,  which,  by 
the  way,  was  a  lie.  It  was  because  my  hand  was  not 
steady,  nor  my  eye.  What  is  it  we  used  to  speak  at 
school,  about  failing  brand  and  feeble  hand  ?  It  was 
not  that  night,  but  it  was  some  other  night  when  I  was 
blue  as  Peter  and  cross  as  a  hand-saw,  that  I  stopped  to 
take  something  on  my  way  home.  I  remember  now 
that  Harry  Patrick,  who  was  always  my  true  friend, 
tried  to  get  me  by  the  shops.  He  did  get  me  by  the 
hotel,  for  a  strong  man  can  do  almost  anything  with  a 


HOW  MR.   FEYE  WOULD  HAVE   PREACHED  IT.      143 

broken  one  ;  but  after  I  had  promised  him  I  would  go 
home,  he  was  fool  enough  to  leave  me,  and  then  I 
stopped  somewhere  else,  —  no  matter  where,  —  you 
do  not  know  Milfold,  —  and  when  I  got  home,  it 
might  as  well  have  been  anybody  else.  I  don't  re 
member  a  thing.  If  the  Prince  Camaralzaman  had 
gone  there,  I  should  now  know  as  little  what  he  did 
from  my  own  memory.  But  what  I  did,  —  or  rather 
what  this  hand,  and  arm,  and  leg,  and  the  rest  of  the 
machine  did,  —  was,  to  kick  the  baby's  cradle  over 
into  the  corner;  to  knock  poor  Jane  down  with  a 
chair,  on  top  of  it ;  to  put  the  chair  through  one  win 
dow,  and  throw  it  out  of  the  other ;  then  to  scream, 
4  Murder !  fire  !  murder  !  fire  !  '  and  then  to  tumble 
on  the  4  hair-cloth  Sofa,'  which  was  to  make  us  so 
comfortable,  and  go  into  a  drunken  sleep. 

44  This  was  what  I  learned  I  did,  the  next  morning, 
when  I  found  myself  in  a  justice's  court ;  and  for  this 
the  judge  sent  me  up  to  Worcester  to  the  House  of 
Correction  for  three  months.  It  was  a  <  first  offence,' 
or  it  would  have  been  longer.  As  for  poor  Jenny  and 
the  baby,  neither  of  them  could  come  and  see  me." 

By  this  time  Frye  was  done  with  pretending  to  smile. 
He  stopped  a  minute,  drank  a  little  water  from  his 
tumbler,  and  said  :  "  Now  you  would  think  that  would 
cure  a  man.  Or  you  would  think,  as  the  law  does, 
that  three  months  in  the  House  of  Correction  would 
4  correct '  him.  That  is  because  you  do  not  know. 
At  the  last  day  of  the  three  months  I  thought  so. 


144  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

There  is  not  a  man  here  who  dreads  liquor  as  I  did 
that  day.  Harry  Patrick,  who,  as  I  said,  was  my  best 
friend,  came  to  meet  me  when  I  went  out.  Richard 
son,  the  sheriff,  as  kind  a  man  as  lives,  took  pains  to 
come  down  and  see  me,  and  said  something  encourag 
ing  to  me.  Harry  had  a  buggy,  that  I  need  not  be 
seen  in  the  cars.  And  as  we  went  home,  I  talked  as 
well  to  him  as  any  man  ever  talked.  Jenny  kissed  me, 
and  soothed  me,  and  comforted  me.  The  baby  was 
afraid  of  me,  but  came  to  me  before  night ;  —  and  so, 
before  a  month  was  over,  we  had  just  such  another 
scene  again,  and  went  through  much  the  same  after- 

o          7  o 

scene,  but  that  this  time  I  went  to  Worcester  for  six 

months.     For  now  it  was  not  a  first  offence,  you  see. 

"  Well,  not  to  disgust  you —  more  than  I  can  help," 

—  and  the  poor  fellow  choked  for  the  only  time  in  the 
sermon,  —  "  not  to  disgust  you  more  than  I  can  help, 

—  this  happened  three  times.     I  believe  things  always 
do  in  stories.     This   did  in  fact.     The  4  third  time ' 
you  go  for  twelve  months.     And  one  Sunday  Harry 
had  been  over  to  see  me,  and  had  brought  me  a  dear 
kind  letter  from  poor  Jenny,  who  was  starving,  with 
two  children  now,  in  an  attic,  on  what  washing  she 
could  get,  and  vest-making,  and  all  such  humbugs,  — 
one  Sunday,  I  say,  we  were  marched  out  to  chapel, 

—  they  have  a  very  good  chapel  in  Worcester,  —  and 
a  man  preached  ;  and  he  preached  from  this  very  text 
you  talk  about,  '  The  way  of  transgressors  is   hard.' 

"  What  the  man  said  I  know  no  more  than  you  do. 


HOW  MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      145 

I  don't  think  I  did  then.     Indeed,  I  do  not  think  I 
cared  much  when  he  began.     But  it  is  a  great  luxury 
to  hear  the  human  voice,  when  you  have  been  at  work 
on  shoes  for  a  week  in  a  prison  on  our  Massachusetts 
system,  which  they  call  the  Silent  System,  where  you 
have  heard  no  word  except  the  overseer's  directions. 
So  I  sat  there,  well  pleased  enough,— even  glad  to 
hear  a  sort  of  yang-yang  they  had  for  music,  -and 
very  glad  to  have  some  good  souls  who  had  come  in 
smg.     I  remember  they  sang  Devizes,  which  my  father 
used  to  sing.     So  I  got  into  a  mood  of  revery  as  this 
preacher  went  on,  and  was  thinking  of  Harry,  and 
old  Deacon  SafFord,  and  father,  and  Jenny,  and  what 
we  would   call   the  baby,   when   to  my  surprise   the 
minister  was  finished.     And  he  ended  with  the  text, 
as  some  men  do,  you  know.     And  he  said,  <  The  way 
of  transgressors  is   hard.'      And   I  caught   Wesson's 
eye,— he    was    my    turnkey,  —  and    Wesson    half 
laughed  ;  and,  in  violation  of  all  order,  I  said  across 
the  passage    to   Wesson,    « Damned   hard  1    Wesson.' 
Mrs.  Whittemore,  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  did  say  so. 
4  Wesson  nodded,  and  looked  sad.     If  he  had  in 
formed  on  me,  I  don't  know  where  I  should  be  now. 
But  he  looked  sorry,  —  and  I  have  not  touched  liquor 
since. 

"I  was  discharged  the  next  Wednesday.  Harry 
came  for  me  again,  as  he  always  did.  I  told  him  I 
did  not  want  to  go  on  in  Milfold.  And  the  good 
fellow  agreed.  He  brought  me  and  Jenny  and  the 


j 


146  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

babies  down  here  to  Boston.  I  '11  tell  you  where  we 
lived.  We  took  two  rooms  in  the  third  story  in 
Genessee  Street,  and  we  began  life  again. 

«<  Now  any  of  you  who  are  tired  can  go  away.  But 
this  is  only  one  head  of  the  sermon." 

Nobody  went,  — only  Mrs.  Whittemore  made  us 
leave  the  table,-  and  we  moved  up  to  the  windows. 
Isabel  took  off  the  cloth,  and  put  on  the  tea-cloth,  and 
went  off,  I  suppose,  to  the  half-Sunday  which  was  one 
of  her  "  privileges."  Mr.  Frye  went  on. 

"  People  always  have  an  excuse.     Perhaps  if  we 
had  not  used  the  cars  more  or  less,  I  should  not  have 
had  this  head  in  my  discourse  ;  I  know  it  all  began 
with  these  Metropolitan  tickets.     I  would  not  work  at 
shoeing  any  more.     I  got  a  place  in  that  shop  where 
your  firm  are  now,  Mr.  Webber, -the  Beals  were 
there  then,  —  as  a  machinist.     I  had  no  difficulty  ever 
with  tools  and  iron.     Pay  was  good  enough.     Work 
was  steady,  though  rules  were  much  stricter  than  at 
Milfold.     But  I  had  not  got  away,  I  have  not  till  this 
hour,  from   that  passion  for  extras.     It  is  so  much 
easier  to  earn  an  extra  than  to  economize  ;  and  it  is  a 
great  deal  easier  still  to  plan  how  you  will  earn  one, 
—  and  to  think  that  is  the  same  thing.     I  was  tearing 
a  strip  of  Neck  car-tickets  in  two,  one  day,  to  give 
Jenny  half,  when  it  occurred  to  me  that  there  was  a 
great  moth  of  money.     We   spent  twenty  or  thirty 
dollars  a  year  on  these  tickets,  and  should  be  glad  to 
spend  twice  as  much.     I  think  the  fun  of  the  thing  at 


HOW   MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      147 

first,  and  then  curiosity  about  it,  set  me  on  the  busi 
ness.  I  know  I  did  not  tell  her.  And  before  1  had 
got  my  little  hand-press  started,  and  had  succeeded  in 
my  electrotypes  to  my  mind,  and  had  spoiled  a  dozen 
blocks  of  wood  in  cutting  my  pattern,  I  had  spent  as 
much  money  five  times  over  as  all  the  car-tickets 
I  ever  printed  would  have  cost  me." 

"You   printed   car-tickets?"    said   Mrs.    Webber. 
"  I  don't  understand." 

"O,"  said  poor  Mr.  Frye,  blushing.  "I  forgot 
that  all  people  do  not  look  on  things  as  a  machinist 
does,  to  see  how  they  were  made.  Yes,  Mrs.  Web 
ber,  for  two  or  three  years  I  printed  all  the  Metro 
politan  tickets  my  wife  and  I  used  in  riding.  And 
eventually  we  rode  a  good  deal.  I  satisfied  such 
conscience  as  I  had,  by  never  selling  any.  And,  as  I 
said,  I  never  told  my  wife.  I  tried  to  persuade  my 
self  it  would  be  an  economy  after  the  plant  was  paid 
for.  But  it  never  was  an  economy.  What  was  the 
worst  part  of  it  was,  that  I  had  the  plant.  I  had  this 
little  handy  printing-press.  You  did  not  think  why  I 
got  it,  Mrs.  Whittemore,  when  I  printed  your  cards 
for  you.  That  is  rather  a  tempting  thing  to  have  in 
the  house.  And  that  little  Grove's  battery,  that  I 
gilded  your  silver  thimble  with,  Mrs.  Stearns,  is  more 
of  a  temptation.  Both  together,  I  can  tell  you  all, 
they  start  a  man  on  more  enterprises  than  are  good 
for  him. 

"  There  is  no  danger,"  he  added,  rather  medita- 


148  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

lively,  "  of  the  kind  people  call  danger,  if  a  man  will 
only  be  reasonable,  and  be  satisfied  with  what  is  good 
for  him.     It  is  the  haste  to  be  rich  which  is  dangerous 
in  that  way,  to  people  who  would  never  have  been 
4  detected,'  as  they  call  it,  if  they  were  willing  to  be 
reasonable  and  comfortable.     But  it  is  not  the  detec 
tion   and   punishment   which   play  the    dogs    with   a 
man.     It  is  the  meanness  and  lying,  after  the  first 
excitement  of  the  enterprise  is   over.     As  I  said,  I 
never  sold  any  car-tickets   or    stage- tickets.     I  just 
made  enough  for  my  own  use  and  Jenny's.     I  did  give 
away  a  lot  of  concert-tickets  one  week  at  the  shop  ;  and 
I  told  the  men  that  I  had  them  for  printing  them.     It 
was  the  off-part  of  the  season,  and  the  Music  Hall  was 
not  half  full  as  it  stood.     I  have  sometimes  thought 
the  Steffanonis,  or  whoever  it  was,  may  have  thanked 
me    in    their   hearts    for   the    audience.       No.      The 
trouble  is,  you  see,  you  have  to  do  things  on  the  sly. 
I  thought  it  would  be  a  satisfaction  to  me  to  have  five 
or  six  books  out  of  the  library  at  once  ;  and  I  got  up 
my  own  library  cards,  —  easy  enough  to  fill  them  out 
with  the  names  of  dead  people.     But  I  never  took  any 
comfort  in  those  books.     George  Fiske  went  into  the 
gift-concert  business.     He  knew  I  had  this  battery  up 
stairs,  and  I  used  to  gild  his  watch-backs  for  him. 
Well,  George  always  paid  me  fairly,  and  I  never  told 
the  lies  at  the  counter  and  office  and  in  the  news 
papers  ;  but  I  never  saw  a  man  take  out  his  watch  in 
the  street,  but  I  felt  I  was  lying.     I  should  not  have 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  "WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      149 

stood  it  long,  I  suppose,  any  way ;  but  I  got  tripped 
up  at  last  pretty  suddenly." 

"  You  were  arrested  ?  "  said  little  Lucas. 

"Arrested,  my  dear  fellow?  No!  Whose  busi 
ness  was  it  to  arrest  me.  You  do  not  keep  your 
police  to  arrest  people,  do  you?  No.  The  first 
breakdown  was  all  along  of  the  war.  Look  at  that 
quarter-dollar." 

And  Mr.  Frye  handed  us  a  well-worn  American 
quarter. 

"  I  carry  that  for  a  warning  to  transgressors.  But 
I  never  told  its  story  before.  Now  see  here." 

And  he  lighted  the  gas  at  his  side,  balanced  the 
quarter  on  his  knife-blade,  held  it  over  the  jet  a  min 
ute,  and  the  two  silver  sides  fell  on  the  table,  while  a 
little  puddle  of  melted  solder  burned  the  "  Living 
Age,"  which  he  held  in  his  hand  beneath. 

•'  There,"  said  he,  "  did  you  ever  see  a  worse  quar 
ter  than  that  ?  Yet  five  minutes  ago  you  would  all 
have  said  it  was  worth  thirty-seven  cents  in  currency. 
Now,  do  you  think,  I  had  deposited  with  that  battery, 
night  after  night,  at  last,  eleven  hundred  and  fifty-two 
silver  eagles  like  that,  and  eleven  hundred  and  fifty- 
two  reverses  like  that,  —  twenty-four  to  a  frame  ;  and 
I  set  the  frames  forty-eight  times.  I  had  just  adjusted 
my  lathe  for  polishing  the  backs,  — if  this  thing  was 
not  so  hot,  I  could  show  you,  —  when  the  banks  sus 
pended  in  1861.  And  before  I  could  get  the  backing 
in,  and  the  soldering  done,  and  the  milling,  and  the 


150  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

tarnish  well  on,— you  have  to  tarnish  them,  Mrs. 
Whittemore,  in  a  mixture  of  lapis-lazuli  and  aqua- 
regia,  —  why,  silver  coin  was  at  a  premium  of  ten  per 
cent.  Not  a  quarter  was  offered  by  anybody  in  the 
shops  ;  and  if  anybody  got  one,  it  was  sent  somewhere 
where  it  was  weighed  within  twenty-four  hours.  So 
all  that  speculation  of  mine  flatted  out.  I  kept  two  or 
three  as  a  warning,  like  this  one.  But  for  the  rest,  — 
I  had  to  melt  down  my  silver  to  pay  my  little  bills  for 
turning-lathes  and  acids  and  lapis-lazuli,  Mrs.  Whitte 


more." 


And  this  time    he  laughed  rather  more    good-na 
turedly. 

«  I  laugh,"  said  he,  "  because  this  is  the  beginning 
of  the  end.  We  were  living  in  Tyler  Street  when 
this  happened  ;  and  I  had  just  enough  persistency  in 
me  to  say  that  if  I  could  not  have  one  quarter,  I  would 
another.  But  currency  is  a  great  deal  harder.  No  ! 
Mrs.  Webber,  you  can't  print  bank-bills  on  a  hand- 
press  like  that  I  have  up  stairs.  It  is  not  very  easy 
to  print  them  at  all.  But  I  was  just  so  mad  at  my 
failure  about  the  silver,  that  I  went  into  my  largest 
enterprise  of  all.  I  moved  away  my  lathe  to  the 
shop ;  I  fitted  up  the  closet  in  the  attic  for  my  chemi 
cals  ;  I  bought  that  pretty  Voigtlander  camera  I 
showed  you  the  other  day,  Mr.  Barnes  ;  I  sent  out  to 
Paris  for  the  last  edition  of  Barreswil's  book  on  Pho 
tography  ;  and  that  was  where  my  skill  in  portraits 
began.  I  had  to  give  up  my  place  in  the  machine- 


HOW  MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE   PREACHED  IT.      151 

shop.  You  can  mill  silver  quarters  at  midnight ;  but 
you  need  sunshine  to  photograph  currency.  And 
then  I  had  to  open  a  photographic  establishment,  to 
satisfy  the  butcher  and  baker,  and  Jenny's  friends, 
and  the  mild  police  of  the  neighborhood  generally, 
that  I  had  something  to  do,  and  was  entitled  to  have 
black  fingers.  I  bought  a  show-case  full  of  pictures 
of  a  man  in  Manchester,  New  Hampshire,  — and  hor 
rid  things  they  were.  I  hung  that  out  at  the  door. 
Sometimes,  to  my  rage  and  dismay,  a  sitter  would 
come.  I  took  care  to  be  cross  as  a  bear,  to  charge 
high,  and  to  send  them  off  with  wretched  pictures. 
They  never  came  a  second  time.  But  I  had  to  have 
some  come,  because  of  the  mild  police  as  I  said  ;  and 
I  had  to  take  Jenny's  friends  for  nothing.  A  photo 
graph  man  has  a  good  many  dead-heads,  as  well  as 
one  or  two  lay-figures.  All  this  set  me  back.  Then 
the  government  kept  changing  the  pattern  of  its  quar 
ters.  Worst  of  all,  I  had  to  let  Jenny  know  this 
time,  because  it  changed  my  life  so  entirely.  I  was, 
you  see,  roped  into  it  by  accident,  I  did  not  really 
know  how.  I  promised  her  that,  as  soon  as  I  was  well 
out  of  debt,  and  the  things  all  paid  for,  I  would  give 
it  all  up.  But  we  were  pretty  badly  in  debt,  and  I 
should  have  to  get  more  than  two  thousand  dollars  to 
make  things  square.  And  I  had  my  pride  up,  and 
went  on,  till  I  did  have,  though  it  is  a  poor  thing  to 
boast  of,  as  handsome  a  set  of  sheets  of  that  second 
issue,  and  of  their  reverses  (they  were  printed  for 


152  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

security  on  thin  paper  to  be  pasted  together),  as  Mr. 
Chase  himself  ever  looked  upon.  Now,  you  need  not 
look  so  frightened,  my  dear  Mrs.  Webber,  for  that  was 
the  end  !  " 

"  How  was  it  the  end  ?  "  said  she. 

u  Why,  my  dear  Mrs.  Webber,  as  the  minister  said 
this  morning,  '  The  wicked  flee  when  no  man  pur- 
sueth.'  That  comes  into  my  sermon  as  it  did  into  his. 
I  had  these  lovely  sheets,  —  they  were  lovely,  though 
I  say  it,  —  three  thousand  sheets,  twelve  bills  on  a 
sheet,  and  the  reverses  too.  I  had  just  got  up  the  gold 
sizing  for  the  blotch  round  the  face,  when  the  door 
bell  rang.  It  was  eight  in  the  evening.  Now  we 
often  had  evening  visitors ;  but  it  was  arranged  be 
tween  Jenny  and  me,  that,  when  they  were  all  safe, 
Jenny  should  just  touch  a  private  bell  that  came  up 
into  the  attic  to  my  work-room.  I  heard  the  door-bell, 
but  after  the  entry,  no  ting  on  my  own. 

"  Who  in  thunder  was  it  ?  I  slipped  down  one 
flight,  and  could  see  and  hear  nothing.  I  bolted  the 
double  doors.  I  put  those  precious  negatives  into  my 
coal-stove,  and  opened  the  lower  draught.  I  took 
those  precious  sheets  and  laid  them  in  the  two  full 
bath-tubs  that  stood  ready.  That  saint,  Jenny,  still 
kept  the  officers  down  stairs.  They  must  be  searching 
the  cellar.  If  I  only  could  get  three  minutes  more  ! 
The  glass  of  the  negatives  ran  out  in  a  puddle  in 
the  ashes.  So  far  so  good.  The  different  piles  of 
paper  softened  ;  and,  pile  by  pile,  I  rolled  them  and 


HOW  MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE   PREACHED  IT.      153 

rammed  them  into  the  open  waste-pipe  which  for 
months  had  been  prepared  to  take  them  in  such  an  exi 
gency  to  the  sewer.  I  have  not,  —  no,  Mrs.  Webber, 

—  not  one  of  those  bills  to  show  you.    In  seven  minutes 
from  that  happy  door-bell  ring  the  last  shred  of  them 
was  floating,  in  the  condition  of  double-refined  papier 
mache,  under  ground,  in  Tyler  Street,  to  the  sea ;  and 
I  walked  down  stairs  to  see  where  Jenny  was,  and  the 
officers. 

"  Officers !  there  were  no  officers.  Only  her  nice 
old  uncle  and  his  wife  had  missed  the  train  to  Melrose, 
and  had  come  to  take  tent  with  us. 

"  Jenny  saw  that  I  was  nervous.  But  what  could 
I  say  ?  O  dear  !  we  talked  about  early  squashes  and 
Old  Colony  corn,  and  the  best  flavor  for  farina  blanc 
mange  ;  and  then  he  and  I  talked  politics,  Governor 
Andrew,  and  the  fall  of  Fort  Henry,  and  what  would 
happen  to  General  Floyd.  Till  at  last,  after  ten  eter 
nities,  bed  occurred  to  them  as  among  the  possibilities, 
and  the  dear  old  souls  bade  good  night.  His  wife 
made  him  go.  He  had  just  got  round  to  Jeff  Davis  ; 
and  his  last  words  to  me  were,  '  The  way  of  trans 
gressors  is  hard.' 

"  4  Hard  indeed,'  said  I,  as  I  turned  round  to  Jenny. 
I  was  too  wild  with  rage  to  scold.  She  did  not  know 

O 

what  was  the  matter.  I  spoke  as  gently  as  if  I  were 
asking  her  to  marry  me.  And  she  —  all  amazement 

—  declared  she  had  struck  my  bell  ! 

"  She  had  tried  to.     But  as  we  tried  it  again,  it  was 


154  THE  INGHAM  PAPEKS. 

clear  something  had  happened.  It  had  been  a  piece 
of  my  own  bell-hanging,  and  a  kink  in  the  wire  had 
given  way.  Jenny  had  sent  her  signal,  but  the  signal 
had  not  come.  And  I  had  sent  my  currency  down  to 
the  sea  for  the  sculpins  to  buy  bait  from  the  flounders 
with  ! 

"  4  Jenny,'  said  I,  as  I  took  down  the  candle  from 
the  ceiling,  '  you  and  I  will  go  to  bed.  "  The  way  of 
the  transgressor  is  hard,"  beyond  a  peradventure.' 

"  And  as  I  looked  at  Jenny,  I  saw  she  was  still  too 
much  frightened  to  begin  to  be  glad.  For  me,  I  was 
not  mad  any  longer.  Do  none  of  you  fellows  know 
what  it  is  to  feel  that  a  game  is  played  through,  wholly 
through,  and  that  you  are  glad  it  is  done  with  ?  Well, 
I  can  tell  you  what  you  do  not  know,  —  that  if  that 
game  has  required  one  constant  lie,  —  or,  what  is  the 
same  thing,  a  steady  concealment  of  real  purpose,  — 
and  if  it  has  forced  you  to  lead  some  little  saint  like 
my  poor  wife  into  the  lie,  —  the  relief  of  feeling  that  it 
is  through  is  infinite. 

"  4  Jenny,  darling,'  said  I,  '  don't  be  afraid  to  be 
glad,  —  don't  be  afraid  of  me.  I  was  never  so  much 
pleased  with  anything  in  my  life.' 

u  And  she  looked  up  —  so  happily  !  <  Heber,'  said 
she,  'the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard';  —  and  we 
went  to  bed. 

"  That  is  the  end,  brethren  and  sisters,  of  the  sec 
ond  head  of  this  discourse.  Let  us  go  into  the  parlor." 

So  we  went  into  the  parlor. 


HOW   ME.   FEYE   WOULD  HAVE  PKEACHED  IT.      155 

Nobody  said  much  in  the  parlor.  But  I  noticed 
that  all  of  them  came  in,  which  was  unusual.  Some 
of  us  lighted  our  cigars ;  —  I  did.  But  Frye  said 
nothing ;  and  I,  for  one,  did  not  like  to  ask  him  to  go 
on.  But  George  Fifield,  who,  with  a  good  deal  of  ten 
derness,  has  no  tact,  and  always  says  the  wrong  thing, 
if  there  is  any  wrong  thing  to  be  said,  blurted  out, 
"  Go  ahead,  Mr.  Parson,  we  are  all  ready." 

"  Does  any  one  want  to  hear  the  rest  of  such  mad 
ness  ?  "  said  poor  Mr.  Frye. 

"  Not  if  it  pains  you  to  tell  us,"  said    good   Mrs. 
Webber.     "  But  really,  really,  you  were  very  good  to 
tell  us  what  you  did." 
And  Mr.  Frye  went  on. 

"  If  I  had  been  preaching  the  sermon  in  my  way," 
said  he,  "  I  should  have  told  you,  what  you  could  have 
guessed,  that,  having  played  that  act  through,  I  did 
not  care  to  stay  in  Boston  more  than  I  liked  to  stay  in 
Milfold.  I  had  been  married  ten  years,  and  I  had 
learned  two  things  :  first,  that  a  man  can't  live  unless 
he  keeps  his  body  under  ;  next,  that  he  can't  live  and 
lie  at  the  same  time,  —  that  he  can't  live  unless  he 
keeps  his  ingenuity  under,  and  his  cunning  and  snaki- 
ness  in  general.  To  learn  the  first  lesson  had  cleaned 
me  out  completely,  and  I  hated  Milfold,  where  I 
learned  it.  To  learn  the  second  had  cleaned  me  out 
again,  and  left  me  two  thousand  dollars  and  more  in 
debt,  —  so  much  worse  than  nothing.  And,  very 
naturally,  I  hated  Boston,  where  I  learned  that  too. 


156  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  What  did  I  do  ?     I  did  what  I  had  always  done 

in  trouble.     I  went  to  Harry  Patrick,   who  happened 

to  be  here  on  business  at  the  time.     Harry  had  fought 

for  me  at  school.     He  had   coaxed   my  father  for  me 

when  I  was  in  scrapes.     He  took  care  of  me  when  I 

was  an  apprentice.     I  have  told  you  what  he  did  for 

me  in  Milfold.     He  established  me  here.     He  sent  his 

friends  to  see  my  wife.     He  had  me  chosen  into  his 

Lodge.     He  lent  me  money  to  buy  my  tools  with.     He 

introduced  me  at    the  Beals'.     When   I  wanted  my 

cameras  and  things  he  helped  me   to  my  credit.     So 

of  course  I  went  to  him.     Well,  I  thought  I  was  done 

with  lying  ;  so  I  told  him  just  the  whole  story.     There 

was  a  quarter's  rent  due  the  next  Monday.     All  the 

quarter's    bills  at  the  shops  were  due,  and  some    of 

them  had  arrears  behind  the  beginning  of  the  quarter. 

My  winter's    overcoat,    my  best    clothes,   indeed,   of 

every  name,  were  at  the  Fawners'  Bank,  where  they 

keep  your  woollen  clothes  from  the  moths  as  well  as 

those  people  on  Washington  Street  do,  but  where  they 

charge  you  quite  as  much  for  the  preservation.     Then 

I  had  borrowed,  in  money,  twenty-five  dollars  here, 

five  there,  a  hundred  of  one  man,   and  so  on, old 

fellow-workmen  at  the  machine-shop,  —  saying  and 
thinking  that  I  should  be  able  to  pay  them  in  a  few 
clays.  This  was  the  reason,  indeed,  why  I  had  hurried 
up  the  negatives,  and  printed  off  the  impressions  as 
steadily  as  I  had,  —  because  the  1st  of  October  was  at 
hand. 


HOW   MR.   FRYE   WOULD   HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      157 

"No.  I  was  glad  I  did  not  have  to  write  to  him. 
I  told  him  straight  through,  much  as  I  have  been  tell 
ing  you.  If  it  has  seemed  to  you  that  I  was  talking  out 
of  a  book,  it  has  been  because  once —  though  of  course 

o 

never  but  once  —  I  have  been  all  over  this  wretched 
business  in  words  before.  I  told  Harry  the  whole. 
They  say  a  man  never  tells  all  his  debt.  I  suppose 
that  is  true.  I  did  not  tell  him  of  some  of  the  mean 
est  of  mine,  and  some  that  were  most  completely  debts 
of  honor.  I  said  to  myself  that  I  could  manage  those 
myself  some  day.  But  then  I  told  no  lies.  I  said  to 
him  that  this  was  about  all.  And  he,  —  he  did,  as  he 
always  does,  the  completest  and  noblest  thing  that  can 
be  done.  He  gave  me  three  coupon  bonds  which  he 
had  bought  only  the  day  before,  meaning  them  for  a 
birthday  present  for  his  mother.  He  gave  me  three 
hundred  and  twenty  dollars  in  cash,  and  he  went  with 
me  to  the  office  of  the  photographic  findings  people, 
with  a  note  of  introduction  Mr.  Rice  gave  to  him,  and 
gave  a  note,  jointly  with  me,  for  the  chemicals  and  the 
cameras.  So  I  was  clear  of  debt  that  night,  except 
the  little  things  I  had  not  told  ;  and  I  had  near  fifty 
dollars  in  my  pocket. 

"  '  And  what  now  ?  '  said  he,  when  I  went  to  thank 
him  again  the  next  morning,  —  and  he  spoke  to  me 
as  cheerily  as  if  I  had  never  caused  him  a  moment's 
care. 

"  Well,  he  wanted  me  to  go  on  with  the  photograph 
room.  But  I  hated  it.  I  hated  Boston.  I  hated  the 


158  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

old  shop.  I  hated  the  Tyler  Street  house.  I  hated 
the  very  color  on  my  hands.  I  begged  him  to 
let  me  go  with  him  to  Washington.  Perhaps  I 
thought  I  should  do  better  under  his  wing.  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  that  I  had  not  then  any  special  wish  to 
serve  the  country,  —  God  bless  her  !  —  though  I  knew 
he  was  serving  her  so  nobly.  Nor  did  I  know  the 
whole  meaning  of  the  way  of  transgressors.  Simply 
I  hated  Boston. 

"  So  he  told  me  to  leave  the  forty- three  dollars  with 
Jenny,  and  to  come  with  him  the  next  day  to  Wash 
ington.  I  had  never  been  even  to  New  York  before. 
And  at  Washington  not  once  did  he  fail  me.  For  two 
or  three  weeks  that  I  was  hanging  round,  living  at 
his  charges,  and  hopelessly  unable  to  do  a  thing  for 
him,  seeming  like  a  fool,  I  suppose,  because  I  know  I 
felt  like  one,  not  once  did  he  forget  himself,  nor  speak 
an  impatient  word  to  me.  And  when  he  came  unex 
pectedly  back  to  our  lodgings  one  day,  an  hour  after 
he  had  gone  out,  to  say  that  the  head  of  the  Depart 
ment  had  that  morning  given  him  an  appointment  for 
me,  or  the  promise  of  one,  in  the  Bureau  of  Special 
Supplies,  he  was  more  glad  than  I  was,  you  would 
have  said.  Not  really  ;  but  he  was  gentle  about  it, 
and  took  no  credit  to  himself,  and  would  have  been 
glad  if  I  could  have  believed  that  4  The  Chief  had 
heard  of  me  from  my  own  fame,  and  had  sent  to  him 
to  find  out  where  such  a  rare  bird  could  be  caught. 

"So   pleasant  days  began  again.     Jenny  and  the 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED   IT.      159 

children  came  on.  Washington  is,  to  my  notion,  the 
pleasantest  city  in  America,  if  you  have  only  the 
wherewithal.  Always,  you  see,  the  great  drama  is 
going  on  before  your  eyes,  and  you  are  one  of  the 
chorus.  You  see  it  all  and  hear  it  all,  before  the 
scenes  and  behind,  and  yet  are  even  paid  for  standing 
and  hearing  the  very  first  performers  in  the  world. 
Tragedy  sometimes,  comedy  sometimes,  farce  how 
often !  melodrama  every  day.  If  you  only  obey  Mi- 
cawber,  and  insure  the  'result  —  happiness.'  But  I 
could  not  do  that,  you  know.  Jenny  could,  and 
would,  if  I  had  let  her.  But  I  would  buy  books,  — 
and  I  would  take  her  on  excursions,  —  I  don't  know, 
—  Harry  went  off  and  I  got  in  debt  again.  But  I 
worked  like  a  dog  at  the  bureau.  I  brought  home 
copying  for  Jenny.  Always  these  odd  jobs  were  my 
ruin.  I  was  always  hoping  to  help  myself  through. 
But  I  was  early  at  work,  and  at  night  I  screwed  out  the 
gas  in  the  office ;  and  so  I  got  promoted.  That  helped, 
but  it  ruined  too.  Promotion,  too,  was  an  «  odd  job.' 
I  ran  behind  again,  and  I  got  promotion  again.  But 
when  I  ran  behind  a  third  time,  no  promotion  came, 
and  I  — 

"  O,  no  !  dear  Mrs.  Webber.  I  did  not  do  as 
Floyd  or  those  people  do.  I  did  what  was  a  great 
deal  worse,  —  as  much  worse  as  the  sin  of  a  being  with 
a  heart  can  be  than  the  sin  of  a  being  with  only  a 
brain. 

"  In  my  new  post  I  had  the  oversight  of  all  the 


160  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

accounts  from  the  Artificers'  Department  in  the  field. 
By  one  of  the  intricacies,  which  I  need  not  explain, 
they  were  in  the  habit  of  sending  over  for  us  to  use, 
from  the  Quartermaster-General's,  the  originals  of  all 
the  reports  they  received,  for  us  to  see  what  we 
wanted  by  way  of  confirming  our  vouchers ;  and  we 
then  sent  them  all  back  to  them.  This  was  because 
we  were  ahead  of  them.  They  were  some  weeks 
behindhand,  and  we  were  "fly,"  as  our  jargon  called 
it.  So  it  happened  that  I  used  to  see  Harry's  own 
official  reports  to  their  office,  even  before  they  read 
them  themselves.  They  opened  them,  you  know, 
and  sent  them  to  us,  —  we  copied  what  we  wanted, 
and  sent  them  back  again. 

"  Of  course  I  was  interested  in  what  he  was  doing. 
I  need  not  say  that  ha  was  doing  it  thoroughly  well. 
He  loved  work.  He  loved  the  country.  He  believed 
in  the  cause.  And  off  there,  at  that  strange  little  post, 
curiously  separated  from  the  grand  armies,  and  in 
many  matters  reporting  direct  to  Washington,  he  was 
cadi,  viceroy,  commissary,  chief-engineer,  schoolmaster, 
minister,  major-general,  and  everything,  under  his 
modest  major's  maple-leaves.  It  was  a  queer  post,  — 
just  the  place  one  dreams  of  when  he  fancies  himself 
fit  for  everything,  — just  the  place  for  an  honest  man, 
—  yes,  just  the  place  for  him. 

u  Strictly  speaking,  I  had  no  right  to  read  his  re 
ports.  But  then  I  did  read  them.  I  liked  to  know 
what  he  was  doing.  At  last,  one  infernal  day,  I  hap- 


HOW  MR.   FRYE   WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      161 

pened  to  notice  that  he  had  misunderstood  one  of  the 
service  regulations  about  returns,  which  had  made  us 
infinite  trouble  when  I  was  in  the  large  room  with 
Blenker.  I  knew  all  about  it.  But  it  had  confused 
Harry.  I  was  glad  I  observed  it  before  they  did,  and 
I  wrote  to  him  at  once  about  it.  I  knew  it  might 
save  him  money  to  notice  it ;  for  they  would  stop  his 
pay  while  they  notified  him.  I  wrote.  But  he  never 
got  the  letter.  The  next  week  and  the  next  this  same 
variation  in  his  accounts-keeping  came  in.  Nothino- 
wrong,  you  know  ;  but  —  look  here  —  if  I  had  a 
blank  I  could  show  you.  Well,  no  matter,  —  but 
just  one  of  those  things  which  you  world's  people  call 
'  red  tape.'  Really,  one  part  of  it  sprang  from  his  not 
understanding  where  the  apostrophes  belonged  in 
4  Commissaries'  wagoners'  assistants'  rations.  I  wrote 
to  him  again  and  again  and  again.  Four  letters  I 
wrote;  but  Sherman  and  Hardee  and  Benham  and 
Hayes,  and  I  do  not  know  who,  were  raising  Ned  with 
the  communications,  and  he  never  got  one  of  my  let 
ters.  And  when  the  sixth  of  these  accounts  of  his 

came,  —  well,  I  was  in  debt,  I  wanted  a  change, 

well,  —  your  Doctor  to-day  would  have  said  the  Devil 
came.  I  wish  I  thought  it  was  anybody's  fault  but 
mine.  What  did  I  do,  but  send  over  to  the  Quarter 
master's  for  the  whole  series,  which  we  had  sent  back  ; 
and  then  I  went  up  to  the  chief,  I  sent  in  my  card, 
and  I  said  to  him  that  my  attention  had  been  called  to 
this  obliquity  in  accounts,  —  that  I  had  warned  Mr. 


162 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


Patrick,  because  I  had  formerly  known  him,  that  he 
was  not  construing  the  act  correctly,  —  that  he  per 
sisted  in  drawing  as  he  did,  and  making  the  returns  as 
he  did,  —and  that,  in  short,  though  strictly  it  was  not 
my  business,  yet,  as  it  would  be  some  months  before 
the  papers  would  be  reached  in  order  (this  was  a  lie, 
-they  had  really  come  to  the  first  of  them),  I 
thought  it  my  duty  to  the  government  to  call  attention 
to  the  matter.  As  we  both  knew,  I  said,  it  was  an 
isolated  post,  and  an  officer  did  not  pass  under  the 
same  observation  as  in  most  stations. 

"  Yes,  I  said  all  that.  It  was  awful.  I  can't  tell 
you  wholly  how  or  why  I  said  it.  I  did  not  guess  it 
would  turn  out  as  it  did.  I  did  hope  I  should  be  sent 
out  on  special  service  to  inspect.  But  I  did  not  think 
of  anything  more.  But  a  man  cannot  have  just  what 
he  chooses.  The  chief,  —  not  his  old  chief,  you  know, 
who  appointed  me,  but  a  new  Pharaoh,  a  real  Shep 
herd  King  who  did  not  know  him  or  me,  —  the  chief 
was  one  of  those  chiefs  who  makes  up  for  utter  incom- 
petency  in  general  by  immense  fiddling  over  a  detail, 
—  the  chief,  I  say,  had  his  cigar,  and  was  comfortable, 
and  knew  no  more  about  this  post  than  you  do,  and 
asked  me,  in  a  patronizing  way  about  it,  not  confessing 
ignorance,  but  as  a  great  man  will.  That  temptation  I 
could  not  resist.  Who  can  ?  You  know  a  man's  busi 
ness  better  than  he  knows  it  himself;  and  he  asks  you 
to  tell  it  to  him,  and  sits  and  enjoys.  I  say,  not  Abdiel 
nor  Uriel  in  the  host  of  heaven  would  have  been  pure 


HOW  MB.   FEYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED   IT.      163 

enough  to  have  resisted  that  temptation,  if  the  Devil 
had  feigned  ignorance,  and  asked  advice  about  keeping 
the  peace  in  Pandemonium.  At  all  events,  I  could 
not  resist.  I  stood,  —  I  sat  at  last,  when  he  asked 
me,  —  and  told  him  the  whole  story,  adorned  as  I 
chose. 

"  The  next  day  he  sent  for  me  again ;  and  I  found 
more  than  my  boldest  hopes  had  fancied,  —  that  he 
was  thinking  of  displacing  poor  Harry,  and  putting 
me  there  as  his  substitute.  Of  course  I  blocked  his 
wheels,  you  say,  and  explained.  No  such  thing.  I 
snapped  at  the  promotion  !  Was  not  promotion  what 
I  must  have  ?  I  played  modest  to  be  sure.  « I  had 
not  expected  —  but  if  the  government  wished  —  there 
were  reasons  —  our  bureau  —  my  own  early  training,' 
—  this,  that,  and  the  other.  Don't  make  me  tell  the 
whole ;  it  was  too  nasty.  The  end  was,  that  I  was 
ordered  to  leave  Washington  with  a  colonel's  commis 
sion,  outranking  -Harry  two  grades,  the  right  to  name 
my  staff  when  I  got  upon  the  ground,  and  a  separate 
commission  making  me  military  governor  of  the  dis 
trict  of  Willston,  Alabama,  to  report  in  duplicate  to 
Washington  and  to  the  district  head-quarters.  Poor 
Harry  was  to  report  in  person  to  the  Department,  in 
disgrace. 

"  Here  was  a  prize  vastly  higher  than  I  had  sought 
for.  I  was  not  very  happy  with  it.  But  I  had  the 
grace  to  say  to  myself  that  I  could  pay  my  debts  now, 
and  would  never  go  in  debt  again.  I  would  even  pay 


164  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

poor  Harry,  I  thought ;  but  then  I  had  another  qualm, 
as  I  remembered  that  there  were  near  three  thousand 
dollars  due  him,  and  that  even  a  colonel's  pay  and 
allowances  would  not  stand  that,  in  the  first  quarter. 
I  did  not  go  back  to  my  own  office  then.  I  went 
home  and  told  Jenny.  I  did  not  tell  her  where  I  was 
going.  I  only  told  her  it  was  promotion,  and  high 
promotion.  I  bade  her  take  comfort ;  and  that  very 
afternoon  I  turned  over  my  papers  and  keys  and  hur 
ried  away. 

"  I  went  on  to  Willston.  I  wish  I  were  telling  you 
how;  but  that  is  not  a  part  of  the  sermon.  I  got 
there.  I  found  Harry.  He  was  amazed  to  see  me. 
He  was  delighted.  He  took  me  right  into  his  own 
little  den,  asked  if  there  was  bad  news,  asked  what 
brought  me,  and  —  well,  my  friends,  the  worst  thing 
of  the  whole,  the  worst  thing  in  my  life,  was  my  tell 
ing  him  I  had  superseded  him  ! 

41  And  now,  do  you  believe  I  had  the  face  to  say  to 
him,  that  it  was  the  saddest  moment  of  my  life  ?  That 
was  true  enough,  God  knows !  But  I  said  more.  I 
dared  tell  him  that  I  had  had  no  dream  of  what  was 
in  the  wind.  That  I  did  not  receive  my  orders  till  I 
had  left  Washington,  and  that  I  had  not  a  thought  or 
suspicion  who  could  have  been  caballing  against  him 
at  the  Department !  I  told  him  this,  when  I  knew  I 
had  done  the  whole  ! 

"  Good  fellow  !  He  cried.  I  believe  I  did.  He 
said,  '  I  can't  talk  about  it ' ;  and  he  hurried  away.  I 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      165 

did  not  see  him  again  till  the  war  was  done.  I  went 
out  and  found  the  gentlemen  of  his  staff.  Of  course 
they  hated  me.  By  and  by  I  had  my  own  staff. 
They  did  not  love  me.  The  people  hated  me.  Did 
you  hear  that  man  "read  to-day,  'The  citizens  hated 
him,  and  said,  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign 
over  us'?  But  I  am  ahead  of  my  story.  It  was 
Saturday  night  that  I  arrived.  Sunday  I  dressed  up 
and  'attended  religious  worship  with  the  garrison.' 
Do  you  believe,  the  chaplain,  a  little  wiry  Sandemanian 
preacher,  chose  to  tell  those  men,  4  The  way  of  trans 
gressors  is  hard.'  And  I  had  to  stand  and  take  it, 
without  the  consolation  I  am  giving  myself  to-day. 

"  It  was  not  he  that  told  me,  —  what  I  found  out 
the  night  before,  when  I  quailed  under  Harry's  eye, 

that  it  is  the  way  that  is  hard.     I  had  always  tried 

to  think  that  it  was  a  hard  station  that  you  got  to,  — 
a  lock-up  or  a  bankruptcy.  But  as  I  lied  to  Harry, 
and  then  as  I  met  the  staff,  and  now  again  behind  this 
chaplain,  I  knew  that  what  was  hard  was  the  way. 
And  from  that  moment  till  I  had  to  resign  my  commis 
sions,  I  knew  every  second  of  life  that  the  way  was 
hard.  I  had  good  things  happen,  some,  and  lots  of 
bad  ones  ;  but  I  never  got  that  feeling  about  the  way 
out  of  my  heart.  I  said  just  now  my  own  gentlemen 
did  not  love  me.  I  don't  know  why  I  say  so,  but 
that  I  thought  so.  For  I  thought  nobody  liked  me  or 
believed  in  me,— just  because  I  hated  myself  after  I 
stood  there  with  Harry,  and  did  not  believe  in  myself. 


166 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


I  tell  you  it  was  very  hard  for  me  to  go  through  the 
routine  of  life  there.  As  for  success,  —  why,  if  Ve 
suvius  had  started  up  next  door  to  us  and  overwhelmed 
us,  I  should  not  have  cared. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  what  did  happen.     If  you  do, 
the  sermon  is  ended.     There  never  should  have  been 
any  post  at  Willston.     We  were  there  to  <  make  Union 
sentiment.'     In  fact,  the  Rebels  lived  on  us,  laughed 
at  us,  and  hated  us.     Harry  did  conciliate  some  people, 
I  think,  and  frightened  more.     I  conciliated  nobody, 
and  frightened  nobody.     I  had  begun  wrong.    <  Sinful 
heart  makes  feeble  hand,'  —  and  it  makes  feeble  head 
too,   Mr.    Marmion;    and,   worse   than    that,  a   man 
can't  make  any  friends  of  himself  or  anybody  else  with 
it.     I  tried  a  great  diplomatic  dodge.     There  was  a 
lot  of  rice  on  a  plantation,  and  I  started  a  private  nego 
tiation  with  one  Haraden  who  owned  it,  —  not  for  my 
self,  really,  but  for  government.     We  wanted  the  rice. 
Then  my  chief  woke  up  one  day  from  a  long  sleep, 
and  sent  us  a  perfectly  impossible  string  of  instructions. 
Then  I  heard  that  Dick  Wagstaff,  one  of  the  enemy's 
light-horse,   was  threatening  my  outpost  at   Walker. 
I  did  not  know  what  to  do.     How  should  I  ?     But  I 
put  on  a  bold  face,  and  marched  out  the  garrison,  and 
went  part  way  to  Walker ;  and  then  I  thought  I  had 
better  go  down  to  Haraden's  ;  and  then,  —I  tell  you, 
it  was  just  like  a  horrid  dream,  —  then  I  remembered 
that  the  gunboats  might  have  been  sent  up  to  help  us, 
and  I  sent  an  express  for  them,  and  marched  that 


HOW  MR.   FRYE  WOULD   HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      167 

way ;  but  then  news  came  that  we  had  been  wrong 
about  Walker,  and  I  thought  we  had  better  cross  back 
there.  But  while  we  were  crossing,  there  came  an 
awful  rain.  We  could  not  get  the  guns  on,  and  had 
to  stop  over  night,  not  only  in  the  wettest  place  you 
ever  saw,  but  in  the  only  place  we  ought  not  to  have 
been  in  at  all.  And  there,  at  the  gray  of  morning, 
before  my  men  could  or  would  start  a  cannon,  down 
came  Dick  Wagstaff's  flying  squadron.  What  is 
worst  is,  that  we  found  out,  afterwards,  there  were  but 
forty  of  them,  and  yet,  in  one  horrid  muddle  of  con 
fusion,  we  left  the  guns,  left  what  rice  we  had  got, 
left  ever  so  many  men  who  had  not  time  to  tumble  up, 
and,  indeed,  we  hardly  got  back  alive  to  Willston.  If 
Dick  Wagstaff  had  known  his  business  half  as  well  as 
he  was  thought  to,  not  one  of  us  would  have  seen  the 
place  again.  But  the  queer  thing  of  all  this  shame 
and  disgrace  to  me  was,  that  it  almost  comforted  me. 
I  remember  my  mother  used  to  flog  me  when  I  was 
sulky,  and  say  she  would  give  me  something  to  cry 
for.  As  we  trailed  back  through  the  mud,  it  fairly 
pleased  me  to  think  that  now,  if  I  looked  like  a  cursed 
hang-dog,  people  would  not  wonder.  My  outside  was 
as  bad  at  last  as  my  in.  I  remember,  as  we  came  to 
the  last  bridge  over  the  Coosa  River,  I,  who  was 
riding  after  the  rear  of  the  column,  overtook  McMurdy, 
—  this  chaplain  I  told  you  of.  He  was  walking,  lead 
ing  his  own  horse,  on  which  sat  or  crouched  a  man 
faint  as  death,  so  he  could  hardly  hold  on.  I  made 


168 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


McMurdy  take  my  horse  and  trudged  beside  him  for 
the  rest  of  the  way.  <  This  is  pretty  hard,  Doctor ,' 
said  I. 

"  '  Hard  for  us,'  said  the  grim  little  man,  'but  not 
so  hard  for  us  as  for  the  Graybacks.' 

"  '  I  don't  see  that,'  said  I.  But  in  a  minute  I  saw 
that  the  little  man  was  clear  grit,  and  true  to  his  cloth. 
"  He  set  his  teeth,  and  said  :  <  Not  so  hard  for  us, 
because  we  are  right,  and  they  are  wrong.  Every 
dog  has  his  day,  Colonel.  They  are  bound  to  come 
to  grief  when  the  clock  strikes  for  them.' 

"  Poor  little  Doctor.     He  preached  at  me  harder, 
when  he  said  that,  than  the  first  day  I  saw  him,  when 
he  was  <  secondlying  it,'  and  <  in  conclusioning  it,'  to 
the  men.     I  made  my  mouth  up  to  say,  «  The  way  of 
transgressors  is  hard,  Doctor.'     But  the  cant  stuck  in 
my  throat.     That  would  have  been  too  steep.     Who 
was  I,  to  say  it?     I  said  nothing.     He  said  nothing. 
But  I  trailed  after  him,  up  to  my  knees  in  that  Ala 
bama  mud;  and  I  said  to  myself,  It  is  the  way  that  's 
hard,  by  Jove.     It  is  not  the  consequence  that  is  hard, 
nor  the  punishment.     That  is  rather  easy  in  compari 
son.    And  I  spoke  aloud :  <  It 's  the  way.'    Just  then  a 
contraband's  mule  pitched  into  me,  — almost  knocked 
me  down,  —  and  the  little  nigger  said  to  me  :  '  Beg 
pardon,  massa ;  Jordan  mighty  hard  road  to  trabble 
to-night.'     I  did  not  swear  at  him.     I  stood  by  and  let 
him  pass.     And  I  said  to  myself:   4  Mighty  hard.     It 
is  the  way  that 's  hard,  and  not  the  bed  you  lie  on  at 
the  end  of  it.' 


HOW  ME.   FRYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      169 

"  Indeed,  at  that  very  moment  of  misery,  utter  fail 
ure,  beastly  defeat,  I  felt  the  first  reaction  from  the 
misery  that  had  galled  me  ever  since  I  lied  to  Harry's 
face.  This  was  the  end  at  last.  All  that  was  the  way. 

"  As  soon  as  they  heard  of  all  this,  of  course  I  was 
relieved,  in  disgrace.  I  was  bidden  to  report  at  Wash 
ington,  just  as  Patrick  had  done.  I  swear  to  you  I 
was  a  happier  man  than  I  had  been  since  the  day  he 
left  me  there." 

Mr.  Frye  stopped.  And  then  he  walked  up  and 
down  the  room.  It  was  long  since  he  had  smiled,  or 
pretended  to.  But  he  rested  on  a  chair-back  now, 
and  said  :  "  That  is  all  the  sermon.  I  shall  feel  better 
now  I  have  told  you.  I  shall  never  tell  any  one  again. 
But  one  revelation  of  such  a  thing  a  man  had  better 
make,  where  it  costs  him  something.  So  I  am  glad 
to  have  told  you." 

Mrs.  Webber  had  her  eyes  full  of  tears.  "  You 
don't  tell  us  all,"  said  she,  —  "  you  don't  tell  how  you 
came  here." 

"That  hardly  belongs  to  the  sermon,"  said  he. 
"  Yes  it  does.  When  I  met  Jenny,  I  told  her  the 
whole  thing  right  through. 

"  '  Poor  boy,'  said  she ;  <  it  is  hard,'  meaning  to 
comfort  me. 

"  '  Jenny,'  said  I,  '  it  is  hard.  Drinking  is  hard  ; 
cheating  is  hard.  You  and  I  found  that  out  before. 
And  this  infernal  intriguing  —  politics,  I  believe  they 
call  it  —  is  the  hardest  of  all.  It 's  a  hard  way,  Jenny.' 


8 


•  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  '  Body,  mind,  and  soul,'  said  poor  Jenny:    'it  is 
hard  any  way  ' ;  — and  she  cried. 

"  So  did  I.  And  then  I  went  across,  and  sent  in 
my  name  to  Harry.  He  was  all  right  again,  and  bre- 
vetted  brigadier.  And  I  said,  « Harry,  ten  times  you 
have  lifted  me  out  of  the  gutter ;  ten  times  I  have 
gone  in  deeper  than  before.  This  time  I  help  myself. 
This  time  I  have  found  out,  what  till  now  I  have  never 
believed,  that  I  carried  failure  with  me,  —that  I  was 
therefore  bound  to  fail,  and  had  to  fail.  Harry,'  said 
I,  'the  very  God  in  heaven  does  not  choose  to  have  a 
broken  wire  carry  lightning,  nor  a  lying  life  succeed. 
That 's  why  I  Ve  failed.  Now  see  me  help  myself.' 

;t  Harry  gave  me  both  his  hands,  shook  mine  heart 
ily,  and  we  said  good  by.  I  came  on  here,  because 
here  I  had  been  in  the  mud.  I  started  this  little 
patent  about  the  clothes-brushes.  I  let  the  results 
look  out  for  themselves.  For  me,  all  I  care  for  now 
is  the  way.  I  pay  as  I  go  ;  and  I  take  care  that  Jor 
dan  shall  be  an  easy  road  to  travel.  Harry  came  on 
last  fall,  and  we  ate  our  Thanksgiving  together  at 
Jenny's  father's. 

"  That  is  all  my  sermon." 
And  now  Frye  lighted  his  cigar. 
We  agreed  among  the  boarders  that  we  would  not 
mention  this.     But  last  Sunday,  at  a  church  I  was  at 
m    Boothia   Felix,    the    man    led   us    through    three 
quarters  of  an  hour  of  what  my  grandfather's  spelling 
book   would  have  called  "trisyllables  in  ality,  elity, 


HOW  MR.   FEYE  WOULD  HAVE  PREACHED  IT.      171 

and  ility,"  and  "  polysyllables  in  ation,  ition,  etion,  and 
otion."  It  was  three  dreary  quarters  of  abstract  ex 
pression.  When  the  fourth  quarter  began,  he  said, 
"  History  is  full  of  illustrations  of  our  doctrine,  but  I 
will  not  weary  you  by  their  repetition." 

"  Old  Cove,"  said  I,  "  I  wish  you  would.  If  you 
would  just  take  that  lesson  from  Mr.  Frye  !  "  Or  I 
should  have  said  so,  had  the  ritual  and  etiquette  of  that 
congregation  permitted. 


THE  KAG-MAN  AND  THE  KAG-WOMAN 


[  I  WAS  tempted  to  write  out  this  passage  of  Mr.  Haliburton's 
memoirs  by  a  few  words  which  fell  from  one  of  our  most  dis 
tinguished  students  of  social  order.  He  told  me  of  the  hint  he 
had  received  from  a  great  paper-maker,  of  the  wastefulness  of 
burning  paper  stock  which  cost  $  220  a  ton.  And  he  urged 
some  of  us  whom  he  supposed  interested  in  publication,  to  start 
a  magazine  for  the  people,  which,  in  teaching  them  how  to  live, 
—  which  the  American  people  do  not  know,  —  should  inculcate 
at  the  same  time  the  lesson  of  frugality,  which,  in  the  unheard- 
of  bounty  of  nature  throughout  the  land,  the  American  people 
has  yet  to  learn.  Whoever  shall  undertake  that  magazine  will 
have  it  in  his  power  to  teach  a  great  lesson  to  our  people,  if  he 
can  make  them  read  it.  Not  waiting  for  its  appearance,  I  offered 
as  my  contribution  to  the  first  number  of  the  Atlantic  Almanac 
the  really  tempting  results  of  the  honest  frugalities  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Haliburton.  —  F.  I.] 


"  IT  was  a  downfall  indeed,  —  or  it  seemed  so  then. 

"  There  was  I,  as  comfortable  a  young  fellow  as  wore 
nice  kid  gloves  in  Boston.  My  place  was  easy  enough 
and  hard  enough.  My  salary  was  eighteen  hundred  a 
year.  I  had  a  reasonable  vacation.  I  liked  the  other 
clerks  and  they  liked  me.  I  understood  my  business, 


THE   BAG-MAN   AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  173 

as  it  proved,  only  too  well.  Best  of  all,  perhaps,  I 
had  fitted  up  my  two  rooms  at  Mrs.  Thayer's  as 
prettily  as  heart  could  wish.  The  bed  was  large 
enough,  and  you  could  air  the  bedroom.  The  carpets 
were  ingrain,  of  small  figure  ;  they  were  cheap,  but 
of  that  dark  claret  and  black  which  give  a  warm  tone 
and  make  things  feel  comfortable.  Not  too  many  pic- 
tures,  —  but  those  hung  low  enough.  Not  too  many 
books,  but  the  free  list  at  the  old  Boston  Library,  four 
or  five  cards  at  the  Public  Library,  and  three  or  four 
friends  on  the  staff  there,  a  minister's  right  at  the 
Athenseum,  and  a  pleasant  intimacy  with  Loring.  I 
owed  no  man  a  dollar.  I  had  no  enemy  in  the  world. 
I  was  at  home  in  a  dozen  nice  cordial  families  of 
friends ;  and  what  more  could  man  require  ? 

"  Of  a  sudden  the  bolt  fell  !     Or  is  it  a  sword  that 
falls  ?     I  believe  it  is  a  sword.     Make  it  4  sword,'  Mr. 
P roof-Reader.     Of  a  sudden  the  sword  fell ! 
u  Thus  :  - 

"  The  office  that  I  was  in  was  the  newly  established 
'  Methuselah  and  Admetus  Life-Assurance  Company.' 
To  say  Assurance,  instead  of  Insurance,  is  rather 
natty  ;  it  sounds  English,  and  people  fancy  the  Barings 
and  the  Bank  of  England  pay  the  bills.  '  Methuselah ' 
was  to  attract  the  biblical,  and  '  Admetus '  the  classi 
cal  gudgeons.  For,  though  the  great  hope  of  the  man 
who  insures  his  life  is  that  he  may  be  beloved  of  the 
gods  and  so  die  young,  yet  practically  people  insure  in 
the  vague  feeling  that  they  thus  take  a  bond  against 


174  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

Death,  or  turn  him  the  cold  shoulder.  It  is  somewhat 
as  you  carry  an  umbrella  in  the  hope  of  preventing 
rain. 

"  We  had  got  our  advertisements  and  prospectuses 
out,  and  really  we  had  a  great  many  new  features.  If 
you  held  our  scrip  eleven  years  and  four  months,  and 
then  did  not  sell  it  for  two  years  and  one  month  more, 
at  the  end  of  that  time  we  declared  a  dividend  of  four 
nineteenths  of  all  the  profits  before  undivided,  after 
striking  a  balance  between  two  elevenths  of  the  risks, 
and  seventy-three  per  cent  of  the  premiums,  reserv 
ing,  of  course,  $37,273,642.17  to  secure  the  cousins 
of  the  bondholders.  That  feature  may  have  been  in 
some  other  companies,  but  -I  never  saw  it.  We  had  a 
very  fine  sign  in  front  of  our  office  in  Queen  Street, 
with  a  picture  of  Methuselah  kissing  Admetus,  and  Al- 
cestis  crying  in  the  corner,  because  her  husband  could 
not  die,  I  believe.  Within,  we  had  a  velvet  carpet 
for  the  President's  room,  a  tapestry  carpet  for  the 
Directors'  room,  English  brussels  for  the  Secretary's, 
American  brussels  for  ours,  and  that  nice,  clear  Russian 
mat,  that  smells  so  pleasantly  of  tar,  for  the  customers. 
We  had  comfortable  chairs,  and  all  the  newspapers. 

"  I  should  have  been  there  to  this  hour,  I  suppose, 
but  that  one  day  a  very  stupid  customer  came  in. 
Not  but  this  often  happened.  But,  this  day,  the 
President  found  his  velvet  lonesome,  and  had  come 
forward  into  our  office.  I  thought  he  was  reading  the 
4  Cornhill,'  but,  as  it  happened,  he  was  listening  over 


THE  BAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG-WOMAN.     175 

his  spectacles  to  me.  That  sentence  is  not  quite  right, 
but  I  cannot  alter  it.  People  do  not  listen  over  their 
spectacles,  —  they  listen  over  their  collars  ;  they  'peek ' 
over  their  spectacles.  Perhaps  he  did  that  too. 

"  Well,  I  explained  and  explained  to  the  customer, 
who  finally  went  away  without  customing.  He  took 
the  little  pink  book,  and  the  large  blue  pamphlet,  and 
the  card  with  the  head  of  Methuselah,  and  both  the 
little  cards,  but  he  did  not  take  out  a  policy,  and  he 
did  not  say  he  would.  I  am  sure  I  did  not  wonder, 
but  it  seems  the  President  did. 

"  '  What  did  you  say  to  that  man  ?  '  said  he. 

u  '  I  explained  the  system  of  Life  Insurance,  —  I 
mean  Life  Assurance,'  said  I,  '  as  well  as  I  could.' 

" '  Yes,'  said  the  President.  *  But  what  did  you 
tell  him  about  invalid  lives  ?  ' 

u  '  O,  I  had  shown  him  the  Northampton  tables,  and 
the  Carlisle  tables,  and  the  Equitable  tables,  and  I 
repeated  to  him  Cowper's  lines  to  the  Registrar.' 

" i  I  know,  I  know,'  said  the  President,  who  is  a 
little  hasty,  though  he  is  my  aunt  Lucy's  brother-in- 
law,  which  accounts  for  my  being  there  indeed.  c  I 
know  all  that,  but  what  were  you  saying  about  invalid 
lives  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  I  explained  to  him  that  nothing  was  so 
certain  as  the  average  law  of  death.  We  had  these 
tables,  —  and  so  we  knew,  on  an  average,  just  how 
long  people  would  live.  And  we  fixed  our  risk  ac 
cordingly,  so  as  to  meet  the  average.  And  he  asked 


176  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

me  why  lie  was   to  go  to  a  medical  e.-      ' 
And  I  told  him  that  it  was  because  we  only  waTuedTo 
pure  healthy  lives.     And  he  asked  me  whether  only 
healthy   hves    came    into   the   tables   of  mortality  _ 
whether  they  were  only  healthy  people  who  lived  in 
Carlisle  and  Northampton  and  the  rest, -and  why 
d  not  do  our  business  on  our  own  principles,  and 
a  e  healthy  people  and  sick  people  togethe,     And 
I  told   hnn  that  ,f  the  company  did  not  make   any 
profit   we  could  not  keep  up  the  office.     And  he  asked 
me  why  we  d,d  not  say  so  in  the  prospectus,  and  what 
was  the  use  of  making  so  much  talk  about  the  cer- 
tamty   of  the   average   of   mortality,   when   we   had 
nothmg  to  do  w,th  the  average  of  mortality,  but  only 
-th  some  of  the  best  lives  in  the  communUv.     I  told 
mn  that  was  our  business,  and  not  his.     And  he  said 
he  thought  the  profit  of  the  business  ought  to  come  to 
the  people  who  paid  the  money.     And  I  said  if  he 
bought  that  he  had  better  go  to  a  mutual  company, 
he  would  find  one  the  other  side  of  the  street.     And 
then  he  went  away.' 

"It  was  the  longest  address  I  ever  made  to  my 
aunts  brother-in-law,  and  it  did  not  seem  to  be  satis 
factory.  He  scowled  and  said,  'I  don't  wonder.' 
And  then  he  went  away. 

"  The  next  day  I  received  a  note  informing  me  that 
my  services  were  no  longer  needed.  He  enclosed  a 
check  for  the  balance  due  me,_fifty.seveil  dollars 
and  eleven  cents, -and  that  was  all.  I  took  my 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG- WOMAN.     177 

umbrella  and  my  office  coat,  bade  the  clerks  good  by, 
and  went  home.     And  I  have  never  been  there  since." 

We  were  sitting  in  Haliburton's  smoking-room  in 
his  nice  house  on  Commonwealth  Avenue,  when  he 
told  me  the  story  above  repeated.  It  is  the  only  house 
I  thoroughly  like  in  Boston.  He  bought  eight  lots, 
and  so  got  a  front  of  near  two  hundred  feet.  Then 
he  was  able  to  extend  his  house  on  the  floor,  instead 
of  running  it  up  into  sky-parlors.  He. was  able  to 
have  the  air  on  every  side,  as  they  have  in  Sybaris,  — 
and  a  little  garden  on  every  side  too.  If  I  had  been 
he,  I  would  have  had  no  staircase,  but  those  which 
went  into  the  cellars.  But  he  yielded  to  the  popular 
taste  enough  to  have  his  house  two  stories  high.  If 
you  care  to  look  for  it,  I  think  you  will  find  it  between 
Fairfield  Street  and  George  the  Third  Street,  —  if 
that  is  the  next  in  the  alphabetical  order. 

We  had  just  dined,  —  the  girls  had  gone  up  to  see 
the  babies,  and  Haliburton  told  me  this  story.  It  was 
a  bad  tumble,  I  said,  and  I  asked  how  he  got  out  of  it. 

"  Well,"  said  Haliburton,  "  they  say  everything  is 
an  accident.  For  me,  I  say  nothing  is.  You  shall 
judge.  I  went  home  to  my  pretty  crimson  and  black 
ingrain  carpet,  and  I  thought  I  looked  my  last  on  it. 
The  rent  was  paid  till  the  end  of  that  month.  And 
what  was  I  to  do  then  ?  I  could  not  dig,  and  the  one 
thing  I  was  sure  of  was,  that  I  would  not  borrow.  I 
was  a  little  blue,  I  can  tell  you,  when  George  Plunkett, 

8*  L 


178  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

whom  I  had  met  at  Lebanon  not  long  before,  came  in. 
He  was  down  in  Boston,  it  seemed.  I  tried  to  be 
hospitable,  found  two  chairs  for  him  ;  we  talked  over 
the  Columbia  House  and  the  rest,—  what  had  become 
of  the  partners  of  the  summer,  — and  I  offered  him  a 
cigar. 

"  As  it  happened,  I  twisted  up  the  back  of  a  letter 
for  him  to  light  it  with,  and  so  it  happened  that  you 
and  I  are  here. 

"For  Plunkett  lighted  the  cigar,  -  gave  me  back 
the  paper,  — I  lighted  mine,  and  threw  the  rest  of 
the  scrap  into  the  grate. 

"  He  made  sure  of  his  light,  and  then  said,  <  So  you 
burn  paper  here  ?  ' 

^  "  '  Why,  I  burnt  that,'  said  I,  « because  I  had  to 
light  the  cigars.  For  a  regular  fuel  I  burn  Lehio-h 
coal.' 

"  '  Pretty  expensive  fuel,'  said  Plunkett,  « to  burn 
paper  at  two  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  a  ton.' 

"  I  suppose  at  another  time  I  should  have  let  it  go 
with  a  laugh.  But  I  felt  wretchedly  poor,  and  was 
not  above  sixpences,  I  can  tell  you.  Plunkett,  who  is 
a  thorough  gentleman,  would  gladly  have  dropped  the 
subject  with  his  joke  ;  but  when  I  pressed  him,  he 
said,  earnestly  enough,  that  they  had  occasion  to  see 
the  shocking  extravagance  of  the  country  in  their  busi 
ness,  that  they  were  at  their  wits'  end  to  get  material 
for  paper,  —  this  was  in  the  war  when  paper  stock  was 
very  high ;  that  every  man  in  the  country  was  paying 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  179 

twice  as  much  for  his  newspaper  as  he  need  pay, 
because  every  man  and  every  woman  was  wasting  like 
all  the  Danaides  together ;  and  that  that  was  what  had 
moved  him  to  speak.  If  I  felt  sore  he  would  apologize. 

"  No  !  I  did  not  feel  a  bit  sore.  To  tell  the  truth, 
even  then,  I  felt  a  little  comforted.  And  when 
Plunkett  went  away,  —  good  fellow,  he  and  his  wife 
are  coming  to  stay  with  us  when  the  Italians  are  here, 
—  send  Polly  round  to  see  her,  —I  say,  when  he  went 
away,  I  got  up  to  examine  my  stock  in  trade.  And  I 
made  this  calculation. 

"  I  could  stay  with  Mrs.  Thayer,  and  live  just  as 
before,  for  four  dollars  and  ninety-three  cents  a  day. 
That  is,  I  could  pay  my  board  ;  I  could  send  home  two 
hundred  dollars  to  my  mother ;  keep  up  the  policy  on 
my  life  at  the  old  New  England  Mutual ;  lay  out  a 
hundred  and  fifty  on  my  summer  journey ;  and  have 
as  much  for  the  poor-box,  or  any  poor  rascal  that  had 
not  thriven  as  well  as  I.  Four  dollars  and  ninety- 
three  cents,  with  old  paper  at  eleven  cents  a  pound, 
would  be  forty-five  pounds  a  day.  Thunder  !  Had 
not  there  been  days  in  the  past  week  when  I  had 
given  away  more  than  that  weight  of  prospectuses  ? 
I  think  poor  Dennis  would  say  so,  who  used  to  carry 
them  to  the  post-office  !  Let  me  see  what  I  had  got 
on  hand. 

"  1st.  Eleven  volumes  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly,  or 
rather  fifty-five  numbers.  By  a  curious  fatality  there 
were  regularly  two  numbers  lost  in  every  year,  so  I 


180  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

never  could  bind  them.  Lucky  for  me  now.  For,  if 
they  had  been  books,  I  might  not  have  thought  of 
them.  I  took  them  down,  blew  off  the  dust,  —  and 
*  hefted  '  them.  Wished  I  had  practised  more  often 
on  cakes  at  fairs.  Could  not  guess  the  weight.  So, 

"  2d.  I  took  down  one  hundred  and  eighty-one  old 
Harpers,  4  hefted  '  them. 

"  3d.  Files  of  the  Transcript  and  Advertiser,  not 
bound  for  four  years.  How  fortunate  that  I  had  had 
this  passion  for  filing  journals.  And  never  once  had 
I  unrolled  one  of  the  files  ! 

"  4th.  Play-bills,  concert-bills,  private  theatrical 
programmes,  &c.,  &c.,  from  a  large  travelling-trunk, 
where  they  had  been  waiting  for  me  to  find  the  leisure 
to  file  them. 

"5th.  Envelopes  for  the  last  eighteen  months.  I 
had  pitched  them  all  into  two  empty  coal-barrels  in  my 
wood-closet  for  some  philanthropist  to  take  off  stamps 
for  one  of  the  postage-stamp  people  who  are  to  be 
fitted  for  the  University  by  the  dextrine  on  the  back 
of  a  million  cancelled  stamps.  Nobody  had  appeared 
to  claim  them  ;  so  here  was  an  accumulation  of  about 
seven  cubic  feet  of  paper,  pretty  tightly  crammed 
down. 

"  6th.  Reports  of  charitable  societies,  copies  of  the 
laws,  quarterly  school  reports,  and  a  thousand  other 
pamphlets  which  I  had  always  kept,  I  knew  not  why 
till  now ;  on  the  principle  of  the  Chinese,  whom  I  was 
now  learning  to  respect  as  a  most  intelligent  nation, 
never  to  destroy  a  piece  of  paper. 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG-WOMAN.     181 

"  All  these  I  piled  together  in  a  corner  of  my  bed 
room,  and  I  gloated  over  them.  I  did  not  know  how 
much  they  weighed,  but  I  fancied  that  they  weighed 
a  great  deal  more  than  they  proved  to.  Not  that  I 
deceived  myself  for  an  instant.  I  knew  that  here  were 
the  accumulations  of  six  years.  I  knew  that  in  sending 
them  to  the  mill  I  was  but  cutting  down  the  ancestral 
oaks.  Still,  if  by  so  doing  I  could  be  learning  how  to  sell 
oak  timber,  and  at  the  same  time  could  plant  new  acorns 
for  new  harvests,  and  could  myself  subsist  till  those  new 
harvests  budded,  bourgeoned,  and  fell  before  the  axe, 
my  modest  destiny  was  secure.  To  this  future  I  ad 
dressed  myself.  I  saw  I  had  first  to  arrange  for  my 
sales.  Then  I  had  to  arrange  for  packing  and  trans 
portation  ;  and,  essential  to  the  whole,  I  had  to  be  sure 
of  the  sources  of  supply.  But  when  I  thought  of  the 
acres  of  useless  paper  which  were  thrust  every  day 
across  my  line  of  march,  I  could  not  but  hope  that 
they  were  thick  enough,  in  all  their  flimsiness,  to  weigh 
on  the  average  forty-five  pounds. 

"  If  the  thing  were  to  be  done,  of  course  it  was  to 
be  done  with  system.  I  remember  perfectly  the  feel 
ing  with  which  I  lay  in  wait  for  Nolan  the  teamster, 
whom  we  used  to  employ  at  the  store,  and  arranged 
with  him  to  call  at  my  side  door  early  Tuesday 
morning  as  he  drove  down  for  his  day's  work.  Nolan 
was  fond  of  me,  for  I  had  many  a  night  kept  the  store 
open  that  he  might  get  through  his  jobs  the  easier, 
when  I  was  the  youngest  apprentice.  And  I  arranged 


182  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

on  very  cheap  terms  that  he  should  call  early  in  the 
morning  every  Tuesday  for  my  stock,  and  that  on  Fri 
day  night  as  he  came  home  after  the  day's  work  he 
should  bring  me  home  a  crockery  crate  from  Basset's. 
Cronyn,  you  know,  who  is  now  in  the  East  Indies, 
arranged  about  crates  for  me.  I  found  I  could  not 
manage  to  have  them  returned  to  me  after  they  were 
emptied.  Eventually  it  proved  best  only  to  send  off 
one  every  fortnight.  All  this  detail  stands  out  in  my 
memory  now  as  freshly  as  if  it  were  yesterday.  It 
was  like  a  boy's  examination  to  enter  college.  It  was 
really  to  me  the  shoving  off  into  a  wholly  new  career. 

"  But  I  do  not  mean  to  tell  you  the  details,  even  of 
that  whole  year,  as  I  tell  you  this  beginning.  Many 
a  begging  circular,  many  a  shop  advertisement,  stuck 
into  my  letter-box,  many  an  explanation  from  Jew 
oculist  about  his  pebble  glasses,  and  from  eclectic 
physician  about  the  days  he  would  be  in  Boston  and 
the  days  he  would  not,  many  a  notification  from  Mr. 
Secretary  McCleary  that  I  was  to  give  in  my  ballot, 
many  a  hint  from  the  water  commissioner  that  I  must 
not  waste  Cochituate,  went  into  my  Balaam  basket,  of 
which  no  sign  is  left  beyond  what  is  in  my  little  day 
books  yonder,  and  those,  I  think,  will  never  be  edited 
by  living  man,  or  by  admiring  biographer  of  mine. 

«It  is— if  you  will  think  of  it  — a  very  strange 
passion  we  have  in  our  age,  this  of  printing  circulars. 
So  far  as  I  know,  it  works  no  good  under  heavens, 
excepting  to  rag-men  and  to  printers.  No  one  answers 


THE  EAG-MAN  AND  THE  BAG-WOMAN.     183 

a  begging  circular,  no  man  goes  to  the  exhibition  which 
is  announced  by  a  printed  circular,  no  one  remembers 
even  the  number  in  the  street  on  the  corn-doctor's  card.' 
Yet  we  print  them  and  send  them  round  as  a  salve 
for  a  wounded  conscience.  It  is  as  people  leave  cards 
when  they  cannot  call.  I  know  I  ought  to  ask  John 
to  contribute  ten  dollars  to  the  Orphan  Asylum  ;  I 
hate  to  do  it,  and  I  therefore  excuse  myself  by  print 
ing  a  hundred  circulars,  asking  a  hundred  Johns  to 
contribute,  and  leaving  them  at  a  hundred  doors.  Or, 
it  is  as  people  leave  tracts.  The  Master  virtually  pro 
hibited  sowing  seed  by  the  wayside  ;  he  said  the  Devil 
ate  up  all  such  seed,  and  he  most  certainly  does  ;  he 
said  that  if  we  had  any  seed  to  sow,  we  should  sow  it 
in  good  ground ;  that  we  were  not  to  stop  to  talk  by 
the  wrayside,  and,  if  we  could  possibly  help  it,  we  were 
never  to  waste  any  seed  there.  Yet  there  are  even 
Tract  Societies  that,  for  want  of  good  ground,  print 
what  they  call  "  Wayside  Series,"  and  give  them  to 
children  in  the  streets,  or  people  who  want  shaving- 
paper,  or  leave  them  on  the  seats  of  railroad  cars.  As 
if  Infinite  Wisdom  had  not  taken  pains  to  prohibit  that 
very  thing. 

"  These  tracts  have  given  me  infinite  trouble.  Be 
cause,  in  forty-five  pounds  of  paper,  a  good  many  of 
them  would  stray  in,  and  I  always  had  to  pick  them 
out  and  get  them  back  to  the  offices  they  started  from 
once  a  year.  I  made  that  distinction  between  people 
who  wanted  to  save  my  soul  and  people  wrho  wanted 


184  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

• 

to  line  their  own  pockets.  And,  while  I  sent  a  quack 
doctor's  almanac  relentlessly  to  the  mill,  I  always  re 
turned  to  the  office  that  issued  it  any  short-metre 
guide  to  heaven  that  in  its  kindness  it  had  sent  to  me. 
"  Well  here  is  one  of  the  day-books  ;  you  see  how 
methodical  I  grew.  I  knew,  as  I  say,  that  I  could  not 
rely  on  past  accumulations.  My  business  was  practi 
cally  to  develop  such  a  movement  as  should  bring 
into  those  rooms  forty-five  pounds  of  paper  a  day. 
The  receipts  varied  with  the  season.  After  Congress 
met,  the  mail  supply  was  always  the  largest ;  next  to 
that  generally  the  i  delivery  '  boys  ;  and  least,  my  own 
walks.  But  on  election-days,  or  when  there  was  a 
circus,  I  often  picked  up  in  the  streets  as  much  as  the 
boys  brought  to  my  door.  There,  over  here,  Decem 
ber  31st,  is  the  footing  carried  out  for  that  year,  you 
see:  — 

Ibs.     oz. 

Mail 13,623     4 

Delivery 2,119     3 

Pockets  ......  1,863  11 

By  delivery,  I  mean  things  poked  under  the  door  or 
into  the  box. 

"  4  What  are  pockets  ?  '  O,  I  had  my  exercise  to 
keep  up,  you  know,  and  I  had  really  a  good  deal  to 
do  in  so  large  a  business  as  I  soon  carried  on  with  the 
manufacturers.  So,  after  allowing  an  hour  after  break 
fast  to  set  the  batteries  running,  I  walked  down  town 
and  met  all  the  boys  who  thrust  papers  in  your  face, 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND   THE  EAG- WOMAN.  185 

always  was  pleasant  to  them,  read  what  they  gave  me, 
and  put  it  in  my  pocket.  If  you  have  leisure  for  such 
things,  you  meet  at  the  reading-rooms  and  libraries  a 
great  many  men  who  would  nothave  thought  of  you,  who 
ask  if  you  have  seen  their  statement  of  the  method  of 
resuming  specie  payment,  and  hand  you  a  copy.  As 
old  as  you  and  I  are,  you  are  entitled  to  a  good  many 
things  by  dint  of  old  assessments.  You  are  entitled 
to  a  copy  of  the  laws,  and  the  catalogues  of  a  vast 
number  of  schools  and  libraries,  to  the  School  Com 
mittee's  Report,  and  many  other  things  for  which  you 
pay  taxes,  and  it  is  but  fair  that  you  should  have  back 
some  return.  In  fact,  if  you  only  will  take  such 
things,  there  are  a  great  many  people  in  the  world 
eager  to  get  them  out  of  their  offices.  Do  you  not 
know  that  the  last  phase  of  that  precious  old  humbug, 
the  Smithson,  is  that  they  circulate  through  the  world 
the  publications  of  societies  who  cannot  otherwise  get 
their  volumes  off  their  hands  ?  A  great  central  ex 
press-office  for  distributing  knowledge  in  the  concrete ! 
But  if  you  want  to  see  the  detail,  look  at  any  page  of 
my  journal." 

Accordingly  I  opened  at  November  8,  1862. 

u  State  Election  to-day:  I  went  to  vote.  Voted 
straight  ticket.  Lots  of  split  tickets.  I  told  them  I 
should  not  vote  them,  but  they  made  me  take  them. 
Passed  the  Ward  Ten  office.  They  pressed  votes  on 
me  there.  Told  them  I  had  voted  already.  They 
seemed  to  want  to  get  rid  of  the  things.  Called  on 


THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Fergus.  He  asked  me  to  accept  some  Reports  on 
Emigration  which  had  been  sent  him  from  Belgium. 
Told  him  I  had  no  use  for  them  (which  was  not  true).' 
He  said  they  were  in  his  way.  Passed  ward-room  of 
Ward  Eight.  More  tickets.  Told  them  I  had  voted. 
They  would  crowd  them  on  me.  Called  on  Mrs. 
Fettyplace.  She  gave  me  memoir  of  her  husband's 
uncle.  Stopped  at  Longmans'.  They  asked  me  to 
notice  their  reprint  of  Gulliver.  Said  they  would 
send  it  home. 

"Home  at  eleven.     Large  mail.     Clara's  wedding 
cards.     What  a  nice  girl  she  is,    and   he  is  a  cr00d 
allow.     Cards   thick   and   heavy.      Four    of   them, 
too.     Two  lottery  advertisements ;  a  pamphlet  about 
Sozodont;   a  prospectus  of  building-lots;  circulars  of 
three  joint-stock   companies  ;  requests  to  furnish  my 
works  for  the  Adelphic  Harmonian  Society  of  Bush- 
University,  Wisconsin  ;  three  requests  for  auto 
graphs;  four  catalogues  of  book  sales;  two  more  dupli 
cates  of  the  fifth  volume  of  the  President's  Message  of 
four  years  ago.     They  seem  behindhand  in  the  printing. 
"  Walk  again  before   dinner.     Election   still  brisk. 
They  tried  to  give  me  more  votes,  but  I  would  not  take 
them.     Four  bills  of  fare;  notices  of  auction  sale  at 
Greenville  ;  of  new  shop  opened  in  Tyler  Street ;  of 
opposition  dentist  at  No.  Ill  Fulton  Street;  and  of  a 
new  medium  in  Lowell  Street.     Dined  at  club. 

"  Afternoon.     Our  majority  is  immense,  they  say. 
Witherspoon,  who  had  been  at  work  all  day,  trying 


THE  BAG-MAN  AND  THE  BAG- WOMAN.      1ST 

to  run  in  Ingham  to  the  Legislature  on  a  split  ticket, 
came  home  to  take  a  cigar.  Ingharn  had  but  four 
votes,  after  all.  Witherspoon  left  here  all  the  tickets 
he  had  not  distributed.  I  could  not  make  him  take 
them  with  him.  He  seemed  cross  and  out  of  spirits. 
Did  not  stay  long.  Afternoon  mail  good.  Exhibit  of 
National  Steamship  Company ;  three  life  insurance 
circulars ;  memorial  for  signature  against  liquor  law  ; 
another  for  it.  Representation  (too  late)  that  Waldo 
was  left  off  the  ticket  by  a  cabal ;  another  (also  too 
late),  that  he  was  not.  Circular  requesting  all  Re 
publicans  to  contribute  for  the  expenses  of  head-quar 
ters.  Four  other  circulars.  Full  set  of  documents 
of  Anti-take-hold-of-the-Fork  Society,  forwarded  by 
Izaaks,  good  fellow. 

"  Delivery  for  the  day  small  ;  two  quack  almanacs  ; 
notice  from  city  to  put  out  ashes  Tuesday  morning ; 
notice  that  grocer  has  moved  to  the  other  corner  of 
the  street ;  that  Frye  has  a  new  partner,  and  the  firm 
will  be  Frye  &  Co. 

"  Called  on  Bertha  by  appointment,  and  took  her 
to  the  Howard.  Maggie  Mitchell.  They  have  a  new 
style  of  bills,  —  a  little  newspaper.  Brought  Bertha's 
home  by  mistake,  but  sent  it  to  her  afterwards. 


Account  for  day, 


51 
A  good  day.     Oh  !  Si  sic  omnia  I " 


Mail  

Ibs.     oz. 
37      11 

Pockets  (3  walks)  . 
Delivery,  papers,  &c.  . 

8        9 
5        2 

188  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

I  handed  back  the  book  to  Haliburton,  a  little 
puzzled.  I  said  I  did  not  see  how  he  came  to  have  so 
many  of  these  things.  I  had  more  or  less  of  them, 
—  more  than  I  had  ever  known  what  to  do  with,  in 
deed,  more  rather  than  less.  But  I  never  had  quite 
forty-five  pounds  in  a  day,  I  thought. 

"As  to  that,"  said  he,  "you  have  had  more  than 
you  think  for.  As  Plunkett  said,  a  vast  deal  goes  in 
fuel  which  you  are  not  aware  of.  But,  I  confess,  I 
cultivated  my  crop.  I  am,  and  always  was,  curious  that 
way.  And  when  I  once  found  that  « lists  of  respecta 
ble  names  '  were  considered  4  property  '  in  this  world, 
bought  and  sold  by  people  who  distribute  circulars,  — 
advertised  and  bragged  of,  I  saw  no  objection  to  my 
name  going  in  on  as  many  as  might  be.  Thus  I  wrote 
one  day,  in  perfectly  good  faith,  for  a  sort  of  sun-dial 
they  advertise  in  New  York,  —  they  call  it  a  gilt  time 
keeper.  I  got  my  dial,  and  forgot  it.  Now,  do  you 
think  that  letter  put  my  name  on  '  a  list,'  and  once  a 
month,  I  suppose,  I  now  receive  lottery  prospectuses, 
-schemes  for  making  money  out  of  nothing,  propos 
als  to  become  an  agent  in  this  or  that  rascality,  I  know 
not  what.  There  is  no  way  known  to  me  by  which  to 
get  your  name  off  one  of  these  Mists,'  and  so  I  e'en 
turn  the  circulars  into  white  paper  as  soon  as  I  may. 
"  I  suppose  the  largest  single  return  I  ever  got  was 
by  starting  '  The  Unfortunates'  Magazine.'  I  studied 
the  thing  with  care,  and  it  turned  out  well.  Maga 
zines  do  not  always  ;  but  that  is  because  the  publishers 


THE  BAG-MAN  AND  THE  KAG-WOMAN.     189 

are  over-ambitious.  We  only  printed  two  hundred 
and  fifty  copies  of  '  The  Unfortunates  '  to  begin  with. 
We  sent  them  free  to  ladies'  schools  and  colleges. 
We  got  very  few  subscribers.  We  never  had  two 
hundred  and  fifty,  and  never  had  to  print  five  hun 
dred  copies.  We  had  good  large  type  and  cheap  paper, 
so  that  it  was  not  very  burdensome ;  only  forty-eight 
pages  a  number,  you  know.  And  we  had,  I  can  tell 
you,  contributions  by  the  hundred-weight.  The  rule 
was  to  be  very  generous  to  new  contributors,  and  we 
got  the  reputation  in  the  Sigma  Delta  Societies,  and 
United  Sisters,  and  all  that  kind,  of  introducing  many  of 
the  younger  and  newer  lights.  I  think  Marie  Montrose 
and  Nannie  of  Nonantum  and  Olive  Oglethorp  and 
Pollie  Playfair  and  Quinsie  Quiggle  all  made  their 
first  appearance  before  the  public  in  4  The  Unfortu 
nates'  Magazine.'  The  year  we  offered  our  first 
premiums,  fifty  dollars  for  the  best  story,  twenty-five 
for  the  second,  and  twenty  for  the  third,  —  all  manu 
scripts  to  be  at  our  disposition,  —  we  had  enormous 
receipts.  I  think  we  had  four  thousand  and  odd 
pounds  of  manuscript.  Stock  was  very  high  that 
year,  and  thirteen  or  fourteen  hundred  pounds  paid 
the  prizes,  so  the  rest  was  clear  profit." 

I  suggested  that  it  was  hard-earned  profit,  if  Halibur- 
ton  had  to  read  all  the  manuscripts.  But  he  explained 
that  it  would  be  entirely  improper  for  the  editor  him 
self  to  make  the  decision,  and  that  the  custom  was  to 
select  a  committee  of  clergymen  of  different  denomi- 


190  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 


nat,ons    to   read   the  s  ^ 

We  sorted  out  a  dozen   or   two,"   said   he,   "that 
seemed  to  be  worth  saving,  but  really  it  was  a  charity 
>  society  to  put  the  rest  into  the  pulp-mill." 

«  And  I  do  not  mean  to  say,"  said  he,  «  that  I  had 
no  conscience  about  the  pulp-mill.     If  I  could  have 
dumped  in  all  the  paper  that  came,  without  opening 
envelopes,   it   would   have   been   another   thin.      !„ 
fact,  I  only  felt  at  liberty  to  do  so  where  men  were 
trying  to  use  me  to  serve  their  own  interest.     Then  I 
thought  tit  for  tat  was  fair.     You  would  be  surprised, 
though,  to  know  how  easily  a  wave  would  get  started 
Ingham  coaxed  me  out  of  twenty  dollars  for  Antioch 
College  one  day ;  I  wish  it  had  been  twenty  thousand 
Ihen  my  poor  twenty  was  printed  in  his  acknowledg 
ment  of  contributions.     From  that  hour  to  this  I  have 
received  begging  circulars  for  every  cause  that  has  a 
name  under  heaven,  having  got  my  name,  I  suppose, 

upon  the  'list'  of  somebody  that  manages  such  mat ' 

ters." 

The  people  wanted  to  clear  the   dinner-table    and 
we  went  into  the  back-parlor  and  sat  on  the  veranda 
here  Haliburton  told  me  the  other  half  of  the  story 

"I  had  been  in  the  paper  business  more  than  a 
year,"  he  said,  "and  I  found  it  was  a  cash  business, 
needing  and  giving  no  credit,  and  therefore  a  comforta 
ble  one,  when  one  day,  as  I  was  coming  home,  I  was 
poking  through  Oswego  Street,  when  a  pretty  little 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG-WOMAN.     191 

girl  in  front  of  me  ran  suddenly  into  the  middle  of  the 
street.  I  saw  in  a  moment  that  she  was  chasing  a  bit 
of  rag  which  was  blown  off  the  sidewalk.  Poor  child ; 
she  was  not  quick  enough,  or  she  was  too  eager ;  she 
tripped  and  fell,  —  struck  her  head  heavily  and  did  not, 
at  the  moment,  rise  again.  I  ran  after  the  little  thing, 
and  found  her  stunned  by  the  blow.  I  carried  her  in 
to  the  grocer's  shop,  washed  her,  and  waited  till  she 
came  to.  She  was  confused  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  said  she  could  go  home, — that  she  knew  she 
could.  She  asked  eagerly  for  her  large  bag,  which  I 
gave  her,  —  and  tried  to  take  it  with  her. 

"  But  this  I  would  not  have.  I  carried  the  bag, 
and  led  her;  or  rather  she  led  me,  into  one  of  the 
parallel  South  Cove  streets  there.  I  fairly  carried  her 
up  three  nights  of  stairs,  and  there,  in  attic  rooms  as 
sweet  and  pretty  as  ever  Rigolette's  were,  we  found 
her  sister. 

"  A  charming  person,  I  can  tell  you.  I  thought  so 
then,  and  I  have  never  changed  my  mind.  Broad, 
sunny  forehead,  large  hazel,  wondering  eyes,  perfectly 
cut  nose,  rather  large  mouth,  —  all  this  tells  nothing,  I 
know,  —  head  wonderfully  poised,  voice  very  sweet, 
ears  —  did  I  say  —  no  bigger  than  little  shells,  hair 
light  and  dark  at  the  same  time,  —  but  what  nonsense 
to  talk  detail !  Some  women  have  an  atmosphere, 
some  do  not.  If  they  are  as  beautiful  as  Juno,  it  is 
no  good  if. they  have  no  atmosphere.  If  they  have 
the  atmosphere,  I  believe  their  cheeks  might  be  pea- 


192  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

green  and  it  would  make  no  difference.  My  little 
girl's  sister  had  more  atmosphere  than  any  woman  I 
had  ever  seen." 

Of  course,   I   knew    who    Haliburton    was    talkino- 

£} 

about  all  this  time,  —  but  he  had  forgotten  I  knew, — 

O 

and,  as  he  pleased  himself,  I  let  him  describe  her.  He 
then  continued  :  — 

"  I  told  my  story,  and  received  her  thanks.  I 
saw  I  must  not  stay.  I  could  not  pretend  the  doctor 
was  needed.  I  saw  she  wanted  to  put  Elsie  to  bed ; 
so  I  bowed  myself  down  stairs,  and  —  called  the  next 
night  to  inquire,  taking  round  Miss  Leslie's  '  Girls' 
Own  Book,'  for  Elsie.  And  I  called  the  next  night, 
and  I  called  the  next  night.  But  the  third  nio-ht  I 

O  o 

found  Miss  Anna  was  not  at  home. 

"  None  the  less,  though  Elsie  got  well  obstinately 
soon,  did  I  call  frequently.  I  made  another  excuse 
for  calling  after  Elsie  was  at  school  again,  in  discussing 
business  arrangements.  For  it  seemed  that  Miss  Anna 
understood  enough  more  of  my  business  than  I  did. 
Since  her  father  and  mother  died,  she  had  supported  her 
self  and  Walter  and  Elsie  and  little  Phil  by  rag-picking, 
with  its  professional  accompaniments  of  sorting  and 
packing.  I  found  great  help  from  her  experience  and 
suggestions,  though  it  was  some  time  before  I  told  her 
that  I  was  an  humble  beginner  in  her  line. 

"  Of  course,  if  a  woman  or  a  man  chooses  to    go 

O 

about  in  rags  into  the  dirt,  with  a  long  pointed  stick, 
as   in  the  pictures   of  professional  chiffonniers  in  the 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  193 

magazines  and  in  the  exhibitions,  either  of  them  may 
become  u  very  disagreeable  being  to  others  or  at  home. 
But  Miss  Anna  had  no  such   views   for   Elsie   or  the 
others.     Indeed,  she  said,  the  profession  involved  no 
special  hardship,  but  that  of  very  early  hours  for  the 
children.      She  had  them  up  before  it  was  light  every 
blessed  day.      They  had  a  very  merry  breakfast,  always 
by  lamplight.     Then  she  started  them,  Walter  alone, 
Elsie  and  Philip  together,  with  their  wagons.     These 
were  just   such    wagons   as    boys    call    '  trucks,'    with 
champagne-baskets  tied  on.     The   children   spent   an 
hour, — much    more    in    summer,  —  in    going    to    the 
"  out-door  places "   as   they  called    them.      I  coaxed 
them   one  morning  to   let  me   go  with   them.     They 
knew  every  back  door  of  every  large  workshop,  where 
there  would  be  any  form  of  shred  swept  out  by  lazy 
or  careless  porter.     They  knew  as   well   what 'shops 
were  well  administered,  so  that  there  would  be  no  need 
even  of  looking  at  the  gutter.     To  my  surprise  they 
did  not  stop  for  paper.     Elsie  had  said  to  me,  when  I 
first  knew   them,   with   perfect   unconsciousness,    that 
paper  was  a  different  business,  and  that  her  sister  found 
it  did  not  pay  to  mix  them.     The  child  did  not   know 
then  why  I  blushed,  nor  did   I   know,  —  I   certainly 
was  not  ashamed  that  I  was  in  that  branch   of  the 
calling.     This  hour's  out-door  work  was  a  good  brisk 
tramp,  with  the  little  wagons  rattling  behind  in  the 
still  streets.     But  neither  of  them  was  half  filled  when 
we  came  home  again,  —  meeting,  almost,  at  the  lower 


194  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

door.  I  said  to  myself  that  there  was  nothing  like 
forty  pounds,  there  were  not  five  pounds  in  both  bas 
kets.  But  Walter  claimed  me  this  time,  —  it  seemed 
we  were  to  go  to  the  '  depots '  as  they  called  them,  — 
and  now  I  understood  matters  better. 

"  It  seemed  that  these  nice,  well-behaved  children, 
partly,  I  suppose,  by  Miss-  Anna's  introduction,  and 
partly  from  their  own  good  sense,  had  ingratiated 
themselves  each  in  eight  or  ten  of  the  large  clothing 
establishments  ;  not  with  the  chiefs,  who  probably  did 
not  know  that  there  were  such  children  in  the  world, 
but  with  the  parties,  —  younger  apprentices,  char 
women  (the  proper  spelling  would  be  chore  women,  I 
believe),  or  whoever  else  had  the  last  charge  of  clean 
ing  up  at  night  for  the  next  day.  In  many  of  the 
work-rooms  the  small  rags  —  clippings  and  parings  — 
are  the  perquisites  of  these  people  ;  all  larger  pieces  be 
longing,  of  course,  to  the  establishment.  The  children 
had  made  their  own  bargains.  From  five  in  the  after 
noon  till  six  or  seven,  and  sometimes  till  nine,  in  the 
evening  they  were  busied  in  these  shops,  —  sweeping, 
or  running  errands,  carrying  water,  doing  messages  for 
the  sewing-women,  according  as  the  bargain  might  be. 
And  so  at  each  shop,  every  night,  they  left  the  bag 
of  scraps  which,  on  the  morning's  trip,  was  to  be  col 
lected  and  carried  home.  They  had  a  reputation,  it 
was  clear  enough,  for  neatness,  quickness,  honesty,  and 
good-nature.  They  were  favorites,  I  could  see,  at  all 
these  places  where  they  looked  in  for  their  store.  At 


THE  BAG-MAN  AND  THE  BAG- WOMAN.     195 

one  or  two  Walter  supplied  the  girls  with  the  Herald ; 
that  was  the  contract,  he  said.  At  one  he  carried  up 
a  block  of  ice  for  the  water-pitcher  ;  that  was  in  the 
contract.  Two  or  three  times  the  night  before  he 

^ 

only  nodded,  but  there  he  had  done  what  he  had  bar 
gained  for.  It  took  two  trips  back  to  their  house  to 
cany  home  these  collections ;  and  when  Elsie  arrived, 
a  little  after  us,  her  stores  were  quite  as  large  as  ours. 

u  The  children  washed  themselves,  told  their  times, 
and  sat  down  to  rest,  while  Miss  Anna  weighed  their 
morning's  work.  Again  it  reminded  me  so  of  home. 
She  marked  it  down  in  their  little  books,  '  Elsie  and 
Phil,  twenty-six  pounds  three  ounces.  Walter,  twenty- 
four  pounds  eleven  ounces.'  The  boy  doubled  up  his 
fist  at  his  sister,  but  it  was  clear  that  he  was  glad  of 
her  success.  'I'll  beat  you  to-morrow,'  he  said. 
'  Dear  old  Morris  says  they  are  to  take  account  of 
stock  to-day,  and  that  somehow  that  is  to  bring  great 
things  into  my  net.'  And  so,  well  pleased  with  the 
morning's  tramp,  they  went  off  to  school. 

"  '  Poor  things,'  said  Miss  Anna  ;  c  it  seems  hard 
they  should  have  it  to  do.  But  I  had  a  great  deal 
rather  have  them  with  me  so,  than  put  her  to 
sewing,  or  him  to  carrying  parcels  in  a  store.  From 
now  till  five  they  will  have  only  to  study  or  to  play. 
Then  come  from  two  to  four  hours  of  pretty  hard 
work.  But  it  is  varied,  —  and  so  far  they  stand  it 
well.' 

44 '  Fifty-one  pounds  and  fourteen  ounces  would  be 


196  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

a  very  good  average,'  said  I,  more  professionally  than 
I  meant  to  do. 

"  She  stared  at  me  a  moment  with  her  great  eyes, 
and  then  said  it  was  higher  than  her  year's  average, 
but  that  the  children  grew  stronger  and  better  ac 
quainted  every  year.  4 1  am  laying  up  for  something 
better  for  them,'  said  she  ;  4  and  we  get  on  so  well  that 
I  am  quite  encouraged.  My  part  begins  now  that  all 
this  trash  is  to  be  separated  into  linen  white,  cotton  ' 
white,  hemp-cord,  cotton-cord,  junk,  silk,  and  shoddy.' 
And  after  this  suggestion  of  her  part,  I  had  to  bow 
myself  away. 

«  '  Was  that  all  ?  '     No,  it  was  not  all,  at  all ;  it  was 
only  the  beginning  of  all. 

"  I  got  in  the  habit  of  calling  there  every  Wednes 
day    evening.     Miss   Anna  would  not  let  me   come 
more  than  once  a  week,  —  I  found  that  out  very  soon. 
She  would  not  accept  any  of  my  invitations,  even  for 
the  most  modest  dissipations.     She  would  not  take  one 
of  the  seats  I  could  offer  her  at  church.     She  let  me 
take  the  children  to  the  circus,— but  she  would  not 
let  me  join  her  if  I  met  her  walking  in  the  mall,  far 
less  would  she  talk  with  me.     I  had  dead-head  tickets 
for  rehearsals  and  concerts,  because   *  The  Unfortu 
nates'  Magazine  '  had  got  on  the  list  of  journals  in  the 
Directory  ;  yet  she  would  not  use  them  if  I  sent  them, 
but  she  would  let  Walter  and  Elsie  go  with  them. 
So  I  got  in  the  habit  of  always  calling  there  Wednes- 


THE   RAG-MAN  AND   THE   RAG-WOMAN.  197 

day  evening,  and,  unless  I  met  her  by  good  luck  in 
the  street,  I  never  saw  her  at  any  other  time.  Walter 
liked  to  come  up  to  my  room  to  see  my  coins  and  rny 
autographs,  and  I  was  always  glad  to  have  him,  to  lend 
him  books,  and  to  help  him  in  his  map-drawing. 

"  Well,  we  did  not  always  talk  shop  ;  but  one  night 
I  had  carried  her  up  Gisquet's  Memoirs,  with  his 
queer  account  of  the  French  rag-pickers.  She  had 
asked  me  for  this  ;  and  this  led  to  my  asking  her  if 
the  children  never  found  things  of  value  in  the  streets. 

"  She  said  they  had,  two  or  three  times,  the  more 
was  the  pity.  She  did  not  want  them  to  get  the 
piratical  feeling,  but  to  understand  they  were  in  an 
honorable,  above-board  business,  —  earning  their  living 
honestly,  and  serving  the  country  by  cheapening  paper, 
as  bravely  as  if  they  were  ramming  down  cartridges 
or  wiping  the  brows  of  sick  soldiers.  When  the 
children  did  bring  home  anything  of  value,  there  was 
the  plague  of  advertising,  of  watching  the  advertise 
ments,  and  all  that,  —  it  excited  them  and  did  no  good 
to  anybody.  Then  Miss  Anna  stopped,  —  began  to 
speak  again,  —  and  stopped  again.  I  got  confused, 
and,  of  course  could  not  think  of  anything  to  say  ;  she 
blushed  and  laughed,  and  said,  '  I  will  tell  you  of  our 
most  remarkable  prize,  —  I  do  not  know  why  I  hesi 
tated  ' ;  and  she  took  out  from  her  drawer  a  steel- 
mounted  pocket-book,  —  a  lady's, — which  she  said 
Elsie  picked  up  in  the  fresh  snow,  in  the  evening,  ten 
months  ago.  It  had  nearly  eighty  dollars  in  it,  two  or 


198  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

three  of  the  owner's  cards ;  and  yet  Miss  Anna  had 
never  been  able  to  find  her. 

"  '  The  name  is  not  in  the  Directory,'  said  she.  4 1 
have  advertised  it  at  three  several  times.  They  have 
a  memorandum  of  it  at  the  Chief  of  Police's  office  ; 
but  here  it  is.  Nobody  has  ever  claimed  it. 

"  '  The  children  used  to  be  immensely  interested,' 
she  said.  '  They  liked  the  handwriting  of  the  cards, 
and  took  it  for  granted  that  a  tin-type  there  is  in  it 
was  a  portrait  of  the  owner.  If  it  is,  she  is  a  very 
pretty  girl.  We  have  made  up  a  great  many  stories 
about  her.  Sometimes  we  have  her  an  English  lady  on 
her  travels.  Sometimes  we  have  her  a  distinguished 
Italian  in  disguise.  Sometimes  we  have  her  a  hidden 
agent  of  Jeff  Davis.  Indeed,'  said  she,  after  another 
pause,  « the  reason  I  stopped  and  blushed  so  absurdly 
was  that  I  think  of  her  more  than  you  would  suppose. 
It  really  seems  to  rne  sometimes  that  her  destiny  was 
interwoven  with  mine  ' ;  —  and  she  blushed  again. 

"  Now,  for  myself,  I  have  plenty  of  such  imagina 
tions,  and  they  make  me  very  happy.  I  once  wrote 
an  article  for  '  The  Unfortunates'  Magazine  '  on  Castles 
in  the  Air,  but  it  got  crowded  out.  But  this  was  the 
first  confession  of  weakness  I  had  ever  heard  from 
this  lonely,  well-poised,  independent  girl,  who  had  had 
to  be  father,  mother,  sister,  and  all,  to  these  children, 
and  who  had  almost  provoked  me  sometimes  by  being 
sweet-tempered,  calm,  and  gentle,  when  I  should  have 
been  blazing  with  rage.  I  laughed  heartily,  and  cried 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG-WOMAN.     199 

out :  '  "  The  Pocket-Book  Recovered  ;  or,  The  Double 
Destiny,"  —  or  better,  "The  Lost  Destiny,  and  the 
Recovered  Pocket-Book,"  —  no,  let  us  have  it,  «c  The 
Destined  Pocket-Book  ;  or,  Two  Hearts  in  One."  I 
foresee  a  serial  for  "  The  Unfortunates'  Magazine." 
Surely  this  time  you  will  write  for  me.' 

"  '  No,  Mr.  Haliburton,'  said  she  ;  '  and  if  I  did,  I 
would  write  on  tissue  paper,  in  a  microscopic  hand,  so 
that  the  article  might  be  placed  on  a  sixpence,  like  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  I  am  not  going  to  fill 
up  your  old  crates  for  you.  But  why  do  you  not  look 
at  the  princess  ?  ' 

"I  opened  the  pocket-book,  took  out  the  picture, 
and  recognized  it  in  an  instant.  4  Why,'  said  I,  '  it  is 
Bertha  Traill ! ' 

" l  And  do  you  know  Bertha  Traill  ?  '  said  Miss 
Anna,  fairly  pale  this  time. 

" '  I  danced  with  her  at  Mrs.  Gordon's  last  night, 
took  her  down  to  supper,  and  afterwards  handed  her 
to  her  carriage,'  said  I,  laughing. 

"  '  You  danced  with  Bertha  Traill ! '  said  she  ;  and 
still  she  did  not  get  back  to  her  quiet  manner,  to  those 
average  tones,  under  which  it  is  our  general  duty  to 
conceal  all  emotion. 

" '  Why  yes,'  said  I,  <  I  know  Bertha  better  than  I 
know  almost  any  one.  I  have  known  her  since  I  was 
in  college.  She  calls  our  class  her  class.  Wither- 
spoon,  her  guardian's  son,  is  a  great  ally  of  mine. 
He  is  as  much  at  home  at  my  mother's  as  I  am,  and  I 


200  THE  IXGHAM  PAPERS. 

am  as  much  at  home  at  his  father's.  So  I  have  known 
Bertha  since  I  taught  her  how  to  scan  ;  and  a  very 
charming  person  she  is  too.' 

4  Miss  Anna  fairly  put  down  her  eternal  sewing, 
and  looked  me  through  and  through.  I  tried  to  keep 
up  the  laughing  tone  I  had  begun  with,  or  at  least 
the  familiar  tone  of  our  ordinary  conversation.  But 
she  was  too  intent  for  that,  I  felt  that  she  had  been 
day-dreaming  so  much  and  so  long,  as  she  sat  there 
sewing,  that  she  was  giving  quite  too  much  importance 
to  the  accident  of  my  knowing  Bertha.  And  I  tried, 
as  quickly  as  I  could  and  as  wisely  as  I  could,  to  re 
lieve  the  strain  on  her  mind,  and  to  let  her  down. 

'"Why  in  the  world,'  said  I,  'did  she  never  see 
your  advertisement?  I  knew  she  lost  her  money. 
She  hated  to  tell  old  Mr.  Witherspoon ;  as  for  the 
Chief  of  Police,  I  thought  I  went  there  myself.  No, 
George  undertook  to.  But  it  was  just  as  they  were 
going  to  Florida  with  poor  Bessie,  — and  it  was  all 
confusion.' 

"Miss  Anna  had  recovered  a  little,  and  said  she 
advertised  in  the  Transcript  and  the  Advertiser.  That, 
too,  accounted  for  her  failure  in  part.  The  old  gentle 
man  was  as  seccsh  as  Bertha  was  loyal,  and  would  not 
have  either  paper  in  the  house.  But  why  had  not 
George  seen  it?  George  always  was  a  goose.  So  I 
ran  on,  — trying  to  give  her  time. 

"And  she  became  wholly  herself  again  in  two 
minutes.  Indeed,  she  almost  seemed  to  avoid  the 


THE   RAG-MAN   AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  201 

subject.  I  tried  to  tell  her  about  Mrs.  Gordon's 
party.  I  wanted  to  let  her  know  what  a  really  nice 
person  Bertha  is.  I  thought  all  that  pretty  story 
about  the  poor  child's  own  mother  would  please  her. 
But  she  had  got  at  her  sewing  again,  only  said  what 
I  made  her  say,  and  was  more  quiet  than  I  ever  saw 
her.  But  when  I  got  up  to  go,  she  took  up  the 
pocket-book,  and  said  she  wished  I  would  take  it  to 
Miss  Traill,  and  say  she  had  done  her  best  that  she 
might  have  it  before. 

"  4 1  shall  do  no  such  thing,'  said  I,  4 1  shall  bring 
Bertha  here,  and  you  shall  give  it  to  her  yourself.' 

"  She  turned  as  pale  as  a  sheet,  as  if  Bertha 
belonged  underground.  '  No  !  —  no  !  —  no  !  Mr. 
Haliburton.  Do  not  do  that.  You  must  not  do  that. 
I  —  I  —  I  beg  you,  do  not  do  that.' 

"  i  Why  in  the  world  not  ?  '  said  I.  4  Bertha  is  not 
the  ghoul  Amine.  She  does  not  eat  people's  hearts 
with  the  end  of  a  bodkin.  I  know  you  will  like  her, 
and  I  know  she  will  like  you.' 

«<  <  Why  not  ?  '  repeated  the  poor  girl,  wistfully,  — 
4  why  not,  indeed  ?  Why,  because  I  had  rather  you 
should  not.  Do  not  bring  her,  Mr.  Haliburton. 
Pray,  do  not  bring  her.  I  ask  it  as  a  favor,  really.' 

"  '  Of  course,  I  shall  not  bring  her,'  said  I ;  and  I 
bowed  :  the  only  formal  words  I  ever  said  to  her. 

" 4  Thank  you  ever  so  much,'  said  she,  and  she  tried 
to  smile  ;  still  so  excited,  however.     And  she  gave  me 
the  pocket-book,  and  said,  '  Pray,  take  it  to  her.' 
9* 


202  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  I  walked  home,  and  I  lay  awake  all  night.  Anna 
had  asked  a  favor  of  me.  '  A  favor.'— the  first  time 
she  had  said  such  a  word.  This  lovely  girl,  —  this 
even-tempered,  gentle,  kind,  true,  far-seeing,  wise, 
inspired  girl,  — this  girl  who  had  let  me  see  her  and 
talk  with  her,  and  play  with  her  playmates,  but  had 
kept  me  just  in  my  place,  no  hair's  breadth  nearer,— 
had  asked  a  favor  of  George  Haliburton,  and  George 
Haliburton  had  the  good  luck  to  be  able  to  grant  it. 

"  What  a  pity  she  could  not  have  asked  something 
more  ! 

"  But  why  was  the  whole  thing  so  dramatic  ?  Why 
was  this  pocket-book  such  a  Leyden  jar  that  one  could 
not  touch  it,  inside  and  outside,  without  a  jump  and  a 
quiver  ?  How  could  it  be  that  Anna  and  I,  —  in  bed, 
to  myself,  I  could  call  her  Anna,  and,  save  to  Phil 
and  Walter  and  Elsie,  I  had  never  named  her  name 
aloud,  —  how  could  it  be  that  Anna  and  I  should  have 
been  in  a  gale  like  that?  Were  we  possibly  a  little 
nearer  together?  Could  she  perhaps  see  that  there 
was  something  in  the  truth  and  loyalty  and  devotion 
of  a  poor  penniless  dog  of  a  rag-picker,  which  made 
him,  so  far,  the  equal  of  herself,  perfect  woman  though 
she  was,  so  nobly  planned  ?  No  !  that  was  nonsense, 
and  I  was  a  fool.  But  what  made  her  blush  ?  And 
what  made  her  turn  pale  ?  I  was  a  fool.  Somehow 
or  other  I  had  managed  to  wound  acutely  the  noblest 
woman  in  the  world,  whom  I  knew  I  loved  with  all 
a  man's  worship.  That  was  bright  in  me.  Women 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND  THE  RAG-WOMAN.     203 

know  women.  I  had  ten  minds  to  tell  Bertha  the 
whole  story,  and  ask  her  why  Anna  turned  pale. 

"  But  of  course  I  did  not.  I  was  a  fool,  but  not  so 
bad  a  fool  as  that.  I  took  the  pocket-book  round,  gave 
it  to  Bertha  ;  and  Bertha  was  amazed  indeed.  She 
explained  some  things  which  made  it  not  so  strange 
that  they  had  missed  the  advertisements.  But  more 
than  her  interest  in  the  pocket-book  was  her  interest 
in  Anna.  '  Let  me  go  see  her,'  said  she.  '  Take 
me  now.' 

"  I  told  her  that  was  just  what  I  wanted  to  do,  but 
that  Anna  would  not  let  me. 

"  <  Of  course  not,'  said  Bertha,  turning  round  in  a 
flash,  as  is  the  custom  of  some  sexes,  to  sustain  the 
opinion  which  was  precisely  the  reverse  of  that  she 
had  expressed  just  before, — 4of  course  not.  Do  you 
suppose  I  should  let  you  bring  any  girl  you  chose  to 
call  on  me,  or  that  I  should  think  much  of  anybody 
who  let  you  bring  her  ?  I  shall  call  myself  on  Miss 
Davenport.  I  dare  say  I  am  the  older  person,  or  that 
I  know  Boston  better  than  she.  Where  shall  I  find 
her?' 

"  I  felt  that  I  should  like  to  have  Bertha  know 
Anna,  should  like  to  have  her  call.  But  I  did  not 
choose  to  tell  her  how  to  find  her.  Anna  had  asked 
as  a  favor  that  I  should  not  bring  her,  and  I  had 
promised.  I  was  not  going  to  dodge  —  or  to  seem 
to  —  by  letting  her  go  alone.  So  I  refused  to  tell. 
Bertha  pressed  :  I  was  firm.  She  persevered  :  and  I. 


204  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

Slie  scolded  :  I  said  nothing.  She  grew  angry  :  and  I. 
It  ended  in  an  up-and-down  quarrel,  —  the  first  we 
two  ever  had.  I  bowed  myself  to  the  door.  She 
would  not  say  good  by,  and  I  pensively  went  home. 
I  had  three  things  to  think  of  now:  first,  why  did 
Anna  turn  pale,  and  then  blush,  when  I  told  her 
about  Bertha  ?  second,  why  did  she  refuse  to  see 
Bertha?  and,  third,  why  did  Bertha  want  to  see  her  ? 
On  these  points  I  meditated  much  that  afternoon,  and 
after  I  had  turned  off  my  gas  at  night.  How  little 
things  affect  you  at  such  a  time  !  I  could  tell  you  now 
how  bad  the  delivery  of  that  day  was  ;  and,  of  course, 
I  had  almost  nothing  in  my  pockets,  —  one  or  two 
dentists'  cards,  and  a  puzzle  Bertha  had  given  me, 
were  all.  I  know  that,  all  told,  that  night,  there  was 
not  fifteen  pounds  on  the  balance.  Misfortunes  never 
come  single. 

"  And  Bertha,  as  I  learned  afterwards,  as  soon  as  I 
left  the  house,  put  on  her  hat  and  shawl,  and  went  to 
the  Quincy  School-house.  She  remembered  Walter's 
name,  which  I  had  mentioned ;  and  she  guessed 
rightly  that  this  was  his  school,  down  by  the  South 
Cove.  She  asked  the  head-master  which  room  he  was 
in  ;  then  told  his  teacher  that  she  wanted  to  find  his 
sister,  but  had  not  her  address.  The  teacher  gave  it, 
of  course  ;  and  so,  by  the  time  I  was  well  at  home  at 
Mrs.  Thayer's,  Bertha  was  timidly  knocking  at  Anna 
Davenport's  attic  door. 

"  Anna  called,  4  Come  in,'  cheerfully  ;  and  Bertha, 


THE  RAG-MAN  AND   THE   RAG-WOMAN.  205 

eagerly,  but  frightened  to  death,  went  in,  to  Anna's 
entire  surprise.  Bertha  saw  her,  felt  the  atmosphere, 
loved  her  ;  put  out  both  hands  to  her,  and  told  her  how 
much  obliged  she  was  to  her  ;  how  her  brother  Fergus 
gave  her  the  pocket-book  ;  how  she  hardly  ever  carried 
it ;  why  she  took  it  that  particular  day  ;  how  she  went 
back  to  look  for  it ;  how  she  cried  when  she  found  she 
had  lost  it ;  and  then,  all  wrought  up  and  mixed  up 
with  the  various  successes  of  the  day,  —  the  recovery 
of  Fergus's  present,  and  the  outgeneralling  me,  and 
the  finding  Anna  so  sympathizing  and  truly  lovely,  — 
poor,  grand,  triumphant  Bertha  broke  down,  and  had 
a  good  cry. 

"  Which  was  probably,  under  her  circumstances, 
the  best  thing  she  could  do.  Anna  soothed  her  ;  made 
her  sit  on  the  sofa,  and  put  up  her  feet ;  brought  her 
cologne,  untied  her  hat,  and  petted  her  in  general. 
Then  she  got  her  talking  about  details  ;  and  before 
Bertha  knew  it,  she  was  telling  all  about  Fergus  and  his 
letters  from  Freyburg,  and  reading  little  scraps  from 
them.  How  women  carry  such  things  round  in  their 
pockets  I  And  before  Anna  knew  it,  she  was  telling 
about  Walter,  and  Elsie's  smart  sayings,  and  showing 
Bertha  about  Elsie's  new  frock.  And  so  it  happened 
that  Bertha  stayed  there  till  dark.  And  Elsie  herself 
came  in  ;  and  Bertha  kissed  her,  and  had  a  frolic  with 
her,  and  made  her  promise  to  come  and  see  her,  and 
got  up  to  go  away.  And  she  and  Anna  felt  as  if  they 
had  known  each  other  for  a  thousand  years. 


206  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

u  And  so  it  happened  that  the  two  next  afternoons 
Bertha  called,  and  took  Anna  to  ride  with  her,  went 
to  church  with  her  Sunday,  and  insisted  on  her  coming 
round  there  to  tea  Monday  night.  And  that  was  the 
way  that  it  happened  that,  at  the  theatre  that  even 
ing,  when  I  caught  sight  of  old  Mr.  Witherspoon's 
figure  in  the  balcony,  and  wrent  round  to  the  other 
side  to  see  who  were  the  ladies  he  had  with  him,  I 
got  a  very  triumphant  bow  from  Miss  Bertha,  and  a 
very  modest,  pretty  bow  from  Miss  Anna.  But  I 
could  not  get  in  to  speak  to  them.  And  I  had  to  go 
away  and  guess  why  Anna  would  go  to  the  theatre 
with  Bertha,  when  she  would  not  let  me  take  Bertha 
to  see  her. 

u  She  would  see  Bertha  without  me.  She  would 
not  see  her  with  me.  Could  it  be  that  my  personality, 
my  Ego,  as  Kant  would  say,  was  of  any  kind  or  sort 
of  consequence  to  her?  Did  she  think  of  me  enough 
to  care  two  straws  whether  I  knocked  at  her  door  or 
went  and  peddled  matches  in  Perth,  in  West  Austra 
lia  ?  I  thought  of  her  day  and  night.  Had  she  so 
little  to  think  of  that  she  ever  thought  of  me,  when  I 
was  not  lecturing  there  Wednesday  evenings  ?  I  and 
Bertha  must  not  go  there  together.  Was  there  then 
—  could  it  be  possible  —  was  it  crazy  conceit  to 
suppose  that  rny  being  mixed  up  with  Bertha  was 
anything  of  a  midge's  importance  to  her,  even-bal 
anced,  self-sustained,  independent  Anna  ?  I  was  an 


THE  BAG-MAN  AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  207* 

ass  to  think  it.  But  it  was  by  no  means  the  first  time 
I  had  been  an  ass.  And  thinking  it,  I  was  happier 
than  I  had  been  since  Wednesday.  I  knew  now,  at 
the  least,  what  I  would  do  on  Tuesday  morning,  or  as 
soon  as  it  was  noon.  And  I  did  it. 

"  I  walked  round  to  Anna's,  and,  the  hour  being 
wholly  unusual,  I  got  in.  I  told  her  I  loved  her,  had 
loved  her,  and  always  should  love  her  ;  that  I  was  as 
poor  a  stick  as  she  thought  me,  but  that  I  was  always 
true  to  my  friends  ;  and  that  I  should  always  be  true 
to  her,  whatever  she  chose  to  say  to  me  ;  that  I  had 
longed  to  say  this  before,  but  never  dared  to ;  that 
now  she  had  asked  one  favor  of  me,  and  had  broken 
her  guard  by  doing  it,  so  that  I  could  not  help  asking 
another. 

u  And  she  —  said  nothing.  And  that  is  the  way  we 
came  to  be  here. 

u  I  do  not  know  how  long  we  might  have  ground 
on,  but  for  the  pocket-book.  I  do  know  that  she  was 
right  when  she  said  her  destiny  pivoted  there,  —  and 
mine  did  as  well. 

"  Bertha  was  married,  you  know,  that  winter,  and 
Anna  was  a  bridesmaid.  Anna  and  I  were  married  in 
the  spring,  and  Bertha  danced  at  the  wedding.  And 
that  is  the  way  we  came  to  be  here,  as  I  said  before." 

I  intimated  that  I  had  not  always  observed  that 
when  two  young  people  married  on  a  limited  income, 
a  handsome  house  on  eight  lots  on  Commonwealth 


208  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

Avenue  was  the  direct  or  logical  consequence.  Polly 
and  I  had  done  the  same  thing,  and  were  well  satisfied 
with  our  own  house  three  doors  from  the  corner  of 
D  Street,  as  you  go  south  from  the  Capuchins'.  So 
Haliburton  explained. 

He  took  Anna  and  the  children  to  Mrs.  Thayer's. 
Mrs.  Thayer  had  got  tired  of  keeping  lodgers,  and  went 
to  Sceattle,  leaving  all  the  house  to  them.  Anna 
insisted  on  it  that  the  children  should  keep  at  work  till 
they  could  do  something  better.  The  business  on  each 
side  reinforced  the  other,  —  the  union  indeed  made 
savings  in  correspondence  and  expressage  and  other 
expenses.  She  was  a  nice  accountant  as  well  as  a 
perfect  housekeeper,  and  all  ran  smoothly.  Soon 
enough,  indeed,  Anna  found  her  Kelts  burning  news 
papers  in  kindling  the  range  and  furnace  fires.  "  Like 
the  Jew  in  Thackeray's  story,  who  used  Bank-of- 
England  notes  to  light  the  candle,"  said  she.  This 
would  never  do.  She  made  Haliburton  send  her 
round  a  barrel  of  shavings,  and  made  the  women 
promise,  gladly  enough,  to  kindle  with  them. 

Haliburton  paid  nothing  for  the  shavings.  But  he 
had  to  send  down  a  barrel  to  the  carpenter's  and  pay 
fifteen  cents  for  sending  it ;  he  had  to  pay  as  much 
more  for  bringing  it  back  ;  then  he  forgot  all  about  it ; 
and  so  the  first  morning  that  the  thermometer  was 
eighty-four  degrees  below  zero,  he  came  down  stairs  to 
find  no  fire,  and  Bridget  and  Mrs.  Flynn  triumphantly 
informed  him  that  this  was  because  the  shavings  were 


THE   RAG-MAN   AND   THE  RAG-WOMAN.  209 

all  gone.  Haliburton  could  not  stand  that  of  course. 
He  made  the  fire  without  swearing.  Good  practice 
that  in  saving  one's  soul  alive,  or  learning  to  possess  it 
in  patience,  which  is  the  same  thing.  Then  he  made 
the  range  fire.  Meanwhile  Anna  had  boiled  some 
water  over  the  gas,  scrambled  some  eggs  on  the  same 
furnace,  made  her  dip-toast  ditto  ditto ;  and  had  her 
coffee  done  and  her  milk  hot  by  the  time  he  had 
washed  his  hands.  They  ate  their  breakfasts  shawled 
and  coated.  And  Haliburton  at  once  proceeded  to 
Nolan's. 

He  started  Nolan's  son  Stephen  that  morning  with 
a  one-horse  express-wagon,  paid  for  the  horse  and  for 
his  keeping  for  three  months.  Steve  was  a  bright 
boy  :  he  is  now  running  a  lumber-mill  on  the  North 
Naguadavick.  Every  morning  he  took  on  his  wagon 
ten  barrels  of  shavings,  as  soon  as  fire-lighting  began. 
He  carried  them  from  house  to  house  till  he  got  his 
regular  customers.  He  sold  them,  not  for  money,  but 
for  newspapers  ;  a  barrel  of  shavings  for  twenty-five 
newspapers,  after  you  had  paid  for  the  barrel.  The 
profit,  of  course,  wras  enormous,  —  too  enormous,  you 
would  have  said,  to  last;  only  housekeepers  stand 
everything.  The  shavings  really  cost  Haliburton  al 
most  nothing.  They  were  glad  to  have  their  shops 
regularly  cleared.  The  business  grew.  One  man 
and  cart  with  a  boy  could  distribute  in  a  winter's 
day  an  immense  number  of  barrels,  as  soon  as  they 
got  it  in  system.  Haliburton  said  a  steady  man, 

N 


210  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

with  a  bright  boy,  would  distribute  in  ten  hours  two 
hundred  barrels  when  the  route  was  all  adjusted. 
Two  hundred  barrels,  with  paper  stock  at  eight  cents, 
brought  them  in  forty  dollars  a  day  ;  and  even  after 
they  started  their  own  planing-mills,  and  had  to  buy 
their  own  lumber,  half  this  forty  dollars  was  profit. 
By  this  time  the  business  was  established.  There  was 
not  a  family  in  Boston,  Chelsea,  Dorchester,  Cam 
bridge,  Brookline,  or  Roxbury  that  had  not  rather 
kindle  with  shavings  ;  and  when  Haliburton  had  sixty- 
three  carts  running  regularly,  as  he  had  when  he  told 
me  the  story,  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty 
dollars'  profit  a  day  through  the  winter  made  a  very 
pretty  business.  Naturally,  at  the  same  time,  he  got 
into  lumbering  and  paper-making  ;  he  knew  the  busi 
ness  in  its  detail,  which  is  always  good  training  for  the 
general,  you  know ;  and  so  it  was  that  he  felt  able  to 
build  his  pretty  palace  in  which  we  were  sitting. 

He  said  they  had  asked  him  to  be  President  of  the 
Seventy-second  National  Bank ;  but  he  had  said, 
though  his  fortune  was  made  of  rags,  he  preferred 
the  crude  to  the  manufactured  article. 


DINNER    SPEAKING. 

A    LETTER    TO    MY    NEPHEW. 

So  you  did  not  enjoy  your  first  Phi  Beta  dinner, 
dear  Torn,  because  you  were  afraid  all  the  time  that 
the  new  members  would  be  toasted,  and  then  u  the 
fellows  "  had  said  you  must  reply  for  them.  That  is 
a  pity.  As,  after  all,  the  fellows  were  not  toasted,  it 
is  a  great  pity.  I  am  glad  you  write  to  me  about  it, 
however,  and  now  it  is  for  me  to  take  care  that  this 
never  happens  to  you  again. 

I  will  tell  you  how  to  be  always  ready.  I  will  tell 
you  how  I  do. 

My  first  Phi  Beta  dinner  was,  like  yours,  my  first 
public  dinner.  It  was  on  the  day,  which  this  year 
everybody  remembered  who  was  old  enough,  when 
Mr.  Emerson  delivered  his  first  Phi  Beta  oration  at 
Cambridge.  How  proudly  he  has  the  right  to  look 
back  on  the  generation  between,  all  of  which  he  has 
seen,  so  much  of  which  he  has  been  !  Well,  he  is  no 
older  this  day,  to  all  appearance,  than  he  was  then, — 
and  your  uncle,  my  dear  boy,  though  older  to  appear 
ance,  is  not  older  in  reality.  What  is  it  dear  G 

Q sings,  who  sat  behind  me  that  early  day  at 

Phi  Beta  ? 


212  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

"  When  we  've  been  there  ten  million  years, 

Bright  shining  as  the  sun, 
We  '11  have  more  days 
To  sing  God's  praise, 

Than  when  we  first  begun  !  " 

Remember  that,  my  dear  oldest  nephew,  as  the  ten 
million  years  go  by,  —  and,  remembering  it,  keep 
young  or  grow  young. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  young,  I  say,  —  and  I.  We 
were  all  young. 

Mr.  Edward  Everett  was  young.  He  was  then 
Governor,  —  and,  I  think,  presided,  certainly  spoke, 
at  that  Phi  Beta  dinner.  By  the  almanac  he  must 
have  been  that  year  forty-five  years  old, — just  as 
old,  dear  Tom,  as  some  other  people  are  this  year  by 
the  almanac.  He  had  been  pretty  much  everything, 
had  gone  most  everywhere,  had  seen  almost  all  the 
people  that  were  worth  seeing,  and  remembered  more 
than  all  the  rest  of  us  had  forgotten.  And  lie  was 
very  young.  To  those  who  knew  him  he  always  was. 
The  day  he  died  he  was  about  the  youngest  man  in 
most  things  that  I  knew. 

And  so  it  happened  that  he  made  the  first  dinner 
speech  that  I  remember.  We  were  all  in  the  South 
Commons  Hall  of  University,  now  used  as  somebody's 
lecture-room,  say,  at  a  guess,  Professor  Lovering's. 
And  he  gave  some  charming  reminiscences  of  Edward 
Emerson,  brother  of  the  philosopher, -too  early  lost,  and 
everywhere  loved,  —  and  then,  speaking  of  the  oration 
of  the  day,  and  of  the  new  philosophy  to  which  it 


DINNER   SPEAKING.  213 

belonged,  and  of  which  the  orator  was,  is,  and  will  be 
the  prophet,  he  said,  in  his  gracious,  funny,  courtly, 
and  hearty  way,  that  he  always  thought  of  its  thunders 
as  he  did  of  the  bolts  of  Jupiter  himself!  Could  one 
have  complimented  an  orator  more  than  to  compare 
him  to  Jupiter  ?  And  then  he  went  on  to  verify  the 
comparison  by  quoting  the  description,  — 

"  Trcs  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosas 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri,"  — 

and  translated  the  words  for  his  purpose,  — 

"  Three  parts  were  raging  fire,  and  three  were  whelming  waves  ! 
Bat  three  were  thirsty  cloud,  and  three  were  empty  wind!  " 

Ah  well,  my  boy  !  You  do  not  remember  what  all 
the  world,  except  a  few  of  the  elect,  then  said  of 
"  Transcendentalism."  So  you  cannot  imagine  the 
scream  of  fun  and  applause  which  saluted  this  good- 
natured  analysis  of  its  thunder. 

And  I,  —  I  was  delighted  at  this  aptness  of  quota 
tion.  Should  I  ever  bring  my  capping  lines  to  such  a 
market  ?  Here  was  a  hit  as  good  as  the  famous  par 
liamentary  retorts,  which  were  so  precious  to  us  in  the 
I.  0.  H.  and  in  the  Harvard  Union.  Should  I  ever 
live  to  see  the  happy  day  when  I  should  find  that  it 
was  wise,  witty,  and  just  the  thing  to  say, 


"  Tu  quoque  litoribus  nostris,  JEneia  nutrix 


or 


"  Tityre  dum  redeo,  brevis  est  via,  pasce  capellas," 
or  any  other  of  the  T's  ?     Or, 


214  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

"  JEsopus  auctor  quam  materiara  reperit," 

or, 

"  JEacus  ingemuit,  tristique  ita  voce  locutus/' 

or  any  other  of  the  M  diphthongs  ?     It  did  not  seem 
possible,  but  we  would  see. 

Now  it  happened  that,  in  the  vacation  following,  a 
French  steamer,  I  think  the  Geryon,  came  to  Boston. 
And  there  was,  perhaps  a  civic  dinner,  certainly  an 
excursion  down  the  harbor,  to  persuade  her  officers, 
and  through  them  Louis  Philippe,  for  this  was  in  the 
early  age  of  stone,  that  Boston  Harbor  was  the  best 
point  for  the  projected  line  of  French  packets  to  stop 
at,  —  and  somebody  invited  me  to  go.  And  it  turned 
out  that  few  of  the  Frenchmen  spoke  English,  and  few 
of  the  Common  Councilmen  spoke  French,  so  that 
poor  little  I  came  to  some  miserable  use  as  a  half-inter 
preter.  I  remember  telling  a  Lieutenant  de  Vaisseau 
that  the  "  Centurion  "  rock  was  called  so  because  the 
74  Centurion  was  lost  there ;  and  that  an  indignant 
civic  authority,  guessing  out  my  speech,  told  me  they 
did  not  want  the  Frenchmen  to  know  anything  was 
ever  lost  in  Boston  Harbor  !  Perhaps  that  was  the 
reason  the  French  packets  never  came.  Well,  by  and 
by  there  was  the  inevitable  collation  in  the  cabin.  (A 
collation,  dear  boy,  is  a  dinner  where  you  have  nothing 
to  eat.)  And  we  went  down  stairs  to  collate.  I 
began  to  think  of  the  speeches.  Suppose  they  should 
call  on  the  youngest  of  the  interpreters,  what  could  he 
say  ?  What  Latin  quotation  that  would  answer  ? 


DINNER   SPEAKING.  215 

Not  Tityrus  certainly !  No.  Nor  JSneas's  nurse 
certainly,  for  she  went  overboard,  —  bad  luck  to  her  ! 
—  or  was  she  buried  decently?  Bad  omen  that! 
But yes  !  certainly  —  what  better  than  the  thun 
derbolts  of  Jove  ?  Steam-navigation  forever,  —  Rob 
ert  Fulton,  Marquis  of  Worcester,  madman  in  the 
French  bedlam,  —  bolts  of  heaven  secured  for  service 
of  earth,  —  Franklin,  —  the  great  alliance,  —  steam- 
navigation  uniting  the  world  !  Was  not  the  whole 
prefigured,  messieurs,  quand  le  grand  poete  forged  the 
very  thunderbolts  of  the  Dieu  des  Cieux  ? 

"  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosae 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri." 

What  better  description  of  the  power  which  at  that 
moment  was  driving  us  along,  — 

"  Three  rays  of  writhen  rain,  of  fire  three  more, 
Of  winged  southern  winds,  and  cloudy  store, 
As  many  parts  the  dreadful  mixture  frame  "  ? 

Could  anything  have  been  more  happy  ?  And  for 
tunately  no  member  of  Phi  Beta  was  present  but 
myself.  But,  unfortunately,  there  was  no  speaking, 
and  for  the  moment  I  lost  my  opportunity. 

But  not  my  preparation,  dear  Tom.  And  for  this 
purpose  have  I  written  this  long  story,  to  show  you 
how,  in  thirty  happy  years  since,  when  I  have  had 
nothing  else  to  say,  u  Tres  imbris  torti  radios  "  has 
always  stood  me  in  stead.  One  good  quotation  makes 
an  after-dinner  speaker  the  match  of  the  whole  world. 


216  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

And  if  you  have  it  in  Latin,  the  people  who  under 
stand  that  language  enjoy  it  especially,  and  those  who 
do  not  always  appear  to  enjoy  it  more  especially. 
Perhaps  they  do.  There  is  also  the  advantage  of 
slight  variations  in  the  translation.  Note  the  dif- 
erence  between  Mr.  Everett's  above,  and  John  Dry- 
den's. 

Imagine  yourself,  for  instance,  an  invited  guest  at  a 
Cincinnati  dinner  in  Wisconsin.  Unfortunately,  my 
dear  boy,  none  of  your  ancestors  rose  even  to  the 
rank  of  drummer  in  the  army  of  the  Revolution. 
Your  great-grandfather's  brother  had  Chastellux  to 
dinner  one  day.  If  you  can,  make  your  speech  out  of 
that.  But  I  do  not  think  you  can.  Still,  you  are 
called  up  to  speak  :  "  Our  friend  from  New  England," 
-  "  Connecticut,  —  Israel  Putnam,  —  Bunker  Hill, 

—  Groton,— Wooster,"   &c.,    &c.      What  will   you 
do,  my  boy  ?     You  must  do  something,  and  you  must 
not    disgrace    old    Wooster.      Do  ?      You   have  your 
thunderbolts. 

"  This  army,"  —  "  gathered  from  North  and  South 
and  East  and  West,"  -  "  like  another  army,"  — 
"  whose  brave  officers  still  linger  among  us,  —  cheer 
us,"  &c.,  &c.,  —  "  this  army,"  —  "  combining  such 
various  elements  of  power,  endurance,  and  wisdom, 

—  this    army,    always    when   I    think    of   it,  —  more 
than  ever  to-day,    sir,   when  I   see   these  who  repre 
sent    it   in    another   generation,  —  when    I    think   of 
Manly  coming  from    the    yeasty    waves    of  the   out- 


DINNER   SPEAKING.     *»  217 

stretched  Cape,  —  of  Ethan  Allen  descending  from 
the  cloudy  tops  of  the  Green  Mountains,  —  of  Knox, 
sweaty  and  black  from  the  hot  furnace  work  of  Salis 
bury,  where 

'  He  created  all  the  stores  of  war,' — 

all  meeting  at  the  same  moment  with  the  Morgans, 
and  Marions,  and  the  one  Washington  from  the  distant 
South,  —  this  army  always  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
prefigured  thunderbolt  which  the  Cyclops  forged  for 
Jupiter. 

'  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosge 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri.' 

'  Three  from  the  sultry  South,  three  from  the  storm-beat  shore, 
Three  parts  from  distant  mountains'  cloudy  store, 
While  raging  heat  fused  all  with  three  parts  more  ! ' " 

You  see,   dear  Tom,   these  audiences  are  always 
good-natured,  and  by  no  means  critical  of  your  ver 


sion. 


Why,  at  the  only  time  I  was  ever  at  a  regimental 
dinner  on  the  Plains,  long  before  the  war,  you  know, 
when  to  the  untaught  mind  it  did  seem  as  if  there  was 
no  reason  why  we  were  there,  and  no  pretence  for 
mutual  congratulation,  I  remember  when  poor  Pen- 
dergrast  called  me  up  to  represent  science  (I  was 
at  that  time  in  the  telegraph  business),  the  dear  old 
quotation  came  to  my  relief  like  an  inspiration. 
I  got  round  to  the  Flag.  Do  you  remember  how 
safe  General  Halleck  always  found  it  to  allude  to 
the  Flag  ? 

10 


218  -*  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

"  The  flag,  gentlemen,"  —  "  colors,"  —  "  rainbow 
of  our  liberties,"  —  "  Liberty  everywhere."  "  Blue, 
white,  and  red  of  Low  Countries,"  — "  Red,  white, 
and  blue  of  France,"  —  "  English  Constitution,"  — 
u  Puritan  fathers,  Cavaliers,"  &c.,  &c. 

"  Does  it  seem  too  much  to  say,  gentlemen,  that, 
with  the  divine  instinct  of  poetry,  the  unequalled  bard 
of  the  court  of  Augustus,  looking  down  the  ages  be 
yond  the  sickly  purple  of  the  palace,  to  the  days  when 
armies  should  be  the  armies  of  freemen,  and  not 
the  Praetorian  guards  of  a  tyrant,  —  that  he  veiled 
the  glad  prophecy  of  the  future  in  the  words  in 
which  he  describes  even  the  thunderbolt  itself? 
The  white  crest  of  the  foam,  the  blue  of  the  sky, 
the  red  of  the  fiery  furnace,  are  all  tossed  together, 
and  play  together,  and  rejoice  together  there,  in 
the  smiles  or  in  the  rage  of  the  very  breeze  of 
Heaven. 

'  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosco 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri.' 

'  Three  parts  of  white  the  crested  billows  lent, 
Three  parts  of  blue  the  heavens  themselves  had  sent, 
Three  parts  of  fiery  red  with  these  were  blent, 
And  on  the  free-born  wind  across  the  world  they  went.'  " 

You  are  not  old  enough,  my  dear  nephew,  to  re 
member  the  great  consistory  which  the  Pope  held  at 
Somerville,  when  for  a  moment  he  thought  that  the 
churches  of  the  world  had  recognized  that  Union 
which  in  fact  does  make  them  one,  and  were  willing 


DINNER  SPEAKING.  219 

to  offer  one  front  to  the  Devil,  instead  of  fighting,  as 
they  always  had  done,  on  ten  thousand  hooks  of  their 
own.  You  understand,  it  was  not  this  Pope,  Pius 
IX.  It  was  the  pope  who  came  after  Gregory  XVI. 
and  before  Pius  IX.  Well,  at  that  immense  dinner- 
table,  which  had  been  built  on  the  plan  of  John 
O'Groat's,  so  that  each  of  the  eleven  thousand  six 
hundred  and  thirty  folks  present  might  sit  at  the 
head,  —  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  appointed  to 
,  represent  the  Sandemanian  clergy,  —  the  only  body, 
as  I  will  venture  to  say  to  you,  which  really  preserves 
the  simplicity  of  Gospel  institutions,  or  in  the  least 
carries  into  our  own  time  the  spirit  and  life  of  funda 
mental  Christianity.  Now  you  may  imagine  the  diffi 
culty  of  speaking  on  such  an  occasion.  I  had  thought 
it  proper  to  speak  in  Latin.  The  difficulty  was  not 
so  much  in  the  language  as  in  what  to  say,  that  one 
might  be  at  once  brave  as  a  Sandemanian,  and  at  the 
same  time  tolerant,  and  catholic  as  a  Christian.  Now 
it  is  not  for  me  to  say  how  well  I  acquitted  myself. 
If  you  want  to  see  my  speech,  you  had  better  look  in 
the  Annales  de  Foi  ;  and,  if  it  is  there,  you  will  cer 
tainly  find  it.  I  did  not  think  it  amiss,  certainly,  that 
I  was  able  to  close  by  comparing  the  great  agencies 
which  the  United  Church  would  be  able  to  employ  to 
the  thunderbolt  itself.  We  had  there  present  bishops 
from  England  of  perpetual  rain,  from  Sitka  of  perpet 
ual  cloud,  from  the  eternal  fires  of  the  torrid  zone,  and 
from  the  farthest  south  of  Patagonia.  When  we 


220  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

selected  our  sacred  twelve,  it  was  easy  for  us  to  take 
them,  as  if  we  were  forging  thunders. 

"  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosse 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri." 

Now,  my  dear  Tom,  I  am  sure  my  lesson  needs  no 
moral.  Of  course  I  do  not  think  you  had  better  start 
in  life  with  my  quotation.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
am  still  young.  I  am  a  life-member  of  many  socie 
ties,  and,  as  they  outlive  other  usefulness,  the  more, 
frequently  do  they  dine  together.  I  may  therefore 
have  some  other  occasion  when  I  may  be  reminded  of 
the  Cyclops.  But  if,  at  your  dinner,  I  had  happened 
to  be  called  upon,  I  think,  —  I  do  not  know,  but  I 
think  that,  seeing  such  men  as  you  describe,  I  should 
have  been  irresistibly  led  to  consider  the  varied  gifts 
which  the  University  every  year  scatters  over  the 
land,  and  the  exquisite  harmony  by  which,  from  such 
different  callings,  different  homes,  and  different  des 
tinies,  they  unite  in  the  merriment  or  in  the  wisdom 
of  her  festivities.  The  men  of  practice  who  have  been 
taming  the  waterfall,  and  made  it  subservient;  the 
men  of  the  gentle  ministries  of  peace,  whose  blessings 
distil  upon  us  like  the  very  dews  of  heaven ;  and  the 
men  of  the  spoken  word,  —  of  the  spirit  of  truth,  of 
which,  like  the  wind  itself,  no  man  knoweth  whence 
it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth,  —  these,  and  the  men 
of  war  who  have  passed  through  its  fires  to  give  us 
the  free  America  of  to-day,  all  were  around  you. 


DINNER  SPEAKING.  221 

Surely  in  such  a  union  I  should  have  been  reminded 
of  the  divine  harmony  by  which  elements  the  most 
diverse  were  welded  into  the  bolts  of  Jove. 

"  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosas 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri." 

"  Three  parts  like  dews  from  heaven,  three  from  the  wave-beat  shore, 
Three  from  the  soft-winged  breeze,  and  three  from  blood-red  war." 

Always,  dear  Tom,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

FREDERIC  INGHAM. 

SUBSEQUENT  POSTSCRIPT  BY  ME.  INGHAM. 

The  subject,  perhaps,  needs  no  further  illustration  ; 
but  I  am  tempted  to  add,  —  as  I  file  this  printed  copy 
of  the  letter  away,  —  that  my  friend,  George  Hussey, 
hearing,  the  week  after  it  was  printed,  that  we  had  no 
good  cherry-brandy  at  our  house,  sent  me  round  some, 
which  has  proved  excellent  in  a  year's  medical  prac 
tice,  with  the  following  formula  for  its  manufacture  :  — 

"  Tres  imbris  torti  radios,  tres  nubis  aquosas 
Addiderant,  rutili  tres  ignis,  et  alitis  Austri/' 

"  Three  parts  from  fruits  wet  from  the  dews  of  Heaven, 
Three  by  stiff  southern  gales  brought  from  Jamaica's  shore  ; 
Three  rays  of  torrid  heat  in  tropic  cave  inwoven, 
And  three  of  pelting  rain  from  Nature's  aqueous  store." 

Nor  was  it  long  after,  that  I  found  myself  called  on 
for  a  few  after-dinner  remarks  at  the  Beta  Phi. 

It  was  just  after  Edward  Rice  had  delivered  his  ad 
mirable  poem  of  "  Andromeda,"  "  The  old  world  set 


222  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

free,"  in  which  were  brilliant  passages  on  our  late 
war,  and  the  various  European  revolutions.  What 
more  inevitable  than  that  I  should  be  reminded  —  as 
I  saw  the  thunderbolt  which  had  been  thus  in  forge  for 
the  overthrow  of  tyrants  —  of 

"  Tres  imbris  torti  radios," 
which  for  the  purpose  I  rendered  as  follows : — 

"  Three  tempest  blasts  of  Prussia's  wrath  divine, 
Forged  in  three  twisted  rays  of  Western  sunset  shine, 
Fanned  by  three  blasts  of  stormy  Apennine, 
And  three,  —  O  wild  Euroclydon  of  Crete  !  —  were  thine." 

F.  I. 


GOOD    SOCIETY. 

[First  published  in  the  New  York  Ledger  of  October  31,  1868.] 


WE  were  very  fond  of  Maria.  She  was  a  thorough 
ly  good  girl,  and  at  heart  thoroughly  sensible  ;  and  I, 
who  told  her  her  faults  when  it  was  best  for  her,  which 
was  not  often,  for  it  is  not  best  to  talk  much  of 
faults  to  any  one,  —  I  never  scolded  her  for  anything 
but  taking  dark  views  instead  of  bright  of  a  world 
which  a  good  God  had  made,  and  in  which  he  had 
chosen  that  she  should  live. 

One  day  she  said,  in  reply  to  me,  that  this  was  all 
very  well  for  me,  because  I  lived  in  a  pleasant  town 
among  pleasant  people.  I  lived  then  in  Worcester, 
Massachusetts.  But,  she  said,  if  I  had  to  live  where 
she  did,  I  should  sing  to  a  different  tune.  She  had  no 
difficulty,  whatever,  in  taking  bright  views  of  things 
in  Worcester.  She  always  did  when  she  made  a  visit 
there.  But  if  I  would  come  and  make  them  a  visit 
in  that  smoky,  snuffy,  musty,  fusty  old  forlorn  New- 
Altona,  that  they  lived  in,  I  should  not  take  any  brighter 
view  of  life  than  she. 

I  have  looked  in  the  Gazetteer,  dear  reader,  to  make 
sure  that  there  is  no  such  town  as  New-Altona. 


224  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Really,  Maria,  whose  real  name  is  not  Maria,  lived  in 
a  driving  manufacturing  town,  which  was  not  old, 
though  she  called  it  so.  I  call  it  New-Altona  for  fear 
of  hurting  the  people's  feelings  there,  when  they  open 
the  Ledger ;  because  this  is  a  true  story  we  are  en 
gaged  on  —  in  the  substance.  You  can  call  the  town 
anything  you  choose,  —  call  it  Paterson  or  New  Bruns 
wick,  or  Germantown  or  Newark.  Newark  is  a  good 
name,  only  it  is  not  the  right  one. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "what  is  the  matter  with  New- 
Altona  ?  Emily  has  a  very  good  sewing-bird  that 
was  made  there." 

"  Suppose  she  has.  Do  you  suppose  I  want  to  eat 
and  drink  sewing-birds,  —  and  to  have  sewing-birds 
for  tea,  cooked  with  French  sauce,  —  to  give  an  even 
ing  party  and  have  nothing  but  sewing-birds  come 
to  it  ?  That  is  just  it,  — there  is  no  society  in  New- 
Altona."  So  groaned  poor  Maria,  half  crying,  half 
laughing. 

u  There  must  be  society,"  said  I,  "  because  there 
are  forty  thousand  people  there.  And  you  must  have 
social  intercourse  with  them,  for  I  know  you  bought 
your  pretty  hat  there,  which  so  astonished  our  natives. 
You  did  not  pick  it  off  a  tree  as  they  do  in  the  Swiss 
Family  Robinson  !  "  (Foul  Play  was  not  then  writ 
ten.) 

"  No,"  said  Maria,  rather  seriously  this  time.  "You 
have  just  hit  it.  I  can  buy  a  bonnet  there,  or  a  mut 
ton-chop,  I  can  tell  Mr.  Doak  what  pear-trees  I 


GOOD   SOCIETY.  225 

want  to  set  out  in  the  spring.  And  I  can  call  on 
Madam  Chenavard,  and  have  her  tell  me  how  the 
Chenavards  are  an  old  Huguenot  family  (as  they  are 
not),  whose  name  ought  to  be  spelt  something  else, 
which  is  all  a  mistake  of  hers.  But  this  is  all  the 
same,  one  day  as  another.  And  it  is  horribly  tedious. 
You  say  it  is  society.  Suppose  it  is.  It  is  not  good 
society." 

"  And  you  must  own,"  said  Polly  Ingham,  who  had 
come  up  at  that  moment,  a  very  bright  person  she, 
who  is  wholly  at  home  in  our  house,  —  u  you  must  own 
that  good  society  means  something." 

"  Of  course  it  does,"  interrupted  Maria,  "  it  means 
such  society  as  I  have  in  this  house."  We  all  bowed 
double.  "  You  shall  not  laugh  me  out  of  it ;  it  means 
society  where  people  know  something,  where  they  talk 
about  nice  things,  —  about  books,  and  pictures,  and 
music,  and  political  economy,  and  flowers,  and  people, 
and  history,  and  religion,  and  talk  easily,  not  because 
they  want  to  teach  you  nor  because  they  want  to 
learn,  but  because  they  are  nice  themselves,  and  be 
cause  the  others  are  nice.  That  is  what  I  mean  by 
good  society.  Such  society  as  you  read  about  in 
books.  Such  society  as  Mr.  Warrington  lived  in  some 
times.  Well,  such  society  as  they  have  in  Europe." 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly,  dreamily,  4i  do  you  remember 
those  charming  three  months  we  spent  with  the  Steins, 
—  the  Von  Steins,  when  Fred  was  laying  the  wire  in 
Siberia  ?  That  was  really  good  society." 

10*  o 


226  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

I  saw  what  Polly  meant,  and  I  confessed  that  it  was. 
So  Maria  begged  me  not  to  scold  her  any  more,  but 
tell  all  about  it,  and  I  sent  for  the  photograph  portfolio, 
and  showed  her  Baron  Von  Stein's  house,  before  and 
behind,  and  the  lovely  bow-window,  and  the  interior, 
with  the  old  Baroness  knitting,  and  the  family  pictures, 
and  then  told  her  of  the  pleasant  time  we  spent  there. 
I  was  not  there  three  months,  nor  anything  like  it. 
But  I  believe  the  ladies  were,  and  I  was  there  long 
enough  to  see  and  enjoy. 

It  was  one  of  those  immense  Silesian  estates,  as 
big  as  a  reasonable  county,  and  the  life  was  indeed 
thorough  domestic  life.  There  were  guests  dis 
tinguished,  and  guests  not  distinguished.  Most  of  us 
met  at  breakfast,  all  of  us  at  dinner,  —  and  after 
dinner  we  generally  were  all  together,  on  the  lawn, 
or  in  the  great  library,  or  in  the  music-room.  Bil 
liards,  if  you  wanted  billiards  ;  books,  if  you  wanted 
books  ;  cards,  if  you  wanted  cards ;  and  music,  if  you 
wanted  music.  But  really  the  talk  was  so  good,  that, 
for  my  part,  I  liked  that  better  than  all  the  rest,  and 
so  did  most  of  the  company  ;  and  so  we  fell  to  telling 
Maria  about  the  company,  about  Yon  Stein  himself, 
how  well  he  bore  his  almost  total  blindness,  how  little 
he  complained  of  his  sufferings,  what  a  marvellous 
man  he  was,  in  his  remembrances  and  in  his  accom 
plishments.  A  nobleman  of  the  bluest  blood,  with 
sixteen  times  sixteen  quarterings ;  one  of  his  ancestors, 
whose  autograph  and  sword  and  boots  he  showed  us, 


GOOD   SOCIETY.  227 

was  a  nobleman  in  Luther's  time,  and  distinguished  in 
that  Protestant  history ;  and  Von  Stein  himself  had 
inherited  all  that  Protestantism.  He  was  the  most 
radical  of  noblemen.  His  house  was  even  then  full 
of  exiles.  "  A  perfect  State  Prison  for  State  offend 
ers,"  he  used  to  call  it.  There  was  Rivoli  from 
Genoa,  the  popular  preacher  of  yesterday  ;  there  was 
young  Rodinoff  and  his  pretty  German  wife.  His 
father  was  in  Siberia,  and  it  had  been  intimated  to 
him  that  he  had  better  travel  outside  of  Russia.  There 
was  Van  der  Donck,  who  had  lived  so  long  in  the 
Levant;  and  those  charming  Lavater  girls,  whose 
poor  father  —  "  O,  there  were  too  many,  too  many 
for  to  name."  But  we  told  Maria  enough  about  them 
to  interest  her,  and  I  sent  Nelly  to  bring  the  Christmas 
album  which  Von  Stein  printed  in  memory  of  our 
visit. 

It  had  exquisite  etchings  and  lithographs  of  the 
drawings  the  ladies  and  Van  der  Donck  had  made. 
It  had  two  little  waltzes  which  Friesland  had  written 
for  Clara  Lavater.  It  had  a  long  letter  which  I  had 
written  them  from  Bellinzona,  after  I  left  them.  It 
had  a  sermon  which  Rivoli  preached  to  us  one  Sunday 
on  the  terrace,  —  which  had  been  privily  taken  down 
in  short-hand  by  Emert  Von  Stein.  It  had  a  ballad 
by  Count  George,  and  a  story  by  Fanny.  Polly  said 
there  was  nothing  of  hers  but  a  crochet  pattern,  which 
she  had  given  the  Baroness.  There  was  something 
from  everybody,  and  Von  Stein  had  had  forty  copies 


228  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

elegantly  printed  that  autumn,  and  had  sent  one  to 
each  of  us  with  his  Christmas  wishes  for  many  happy 
returns  of  our  visit. 

I  said  Von  Stein  was  certainly  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  men  I  ever  knew.  Such  a  master  of 
languages, — for  his  English  was  as  grammatical  as 
mine,  —  and  he  seemed  to  speak  six  other  languages 
as  well ;  he  drew  so  well,  he  played  on  the  violin  and 
piano  so  well,  he  rode  so  well,  he  danced  so  well,  and 
he  talked  so  well.  Then,  best  accomplishment  of  all, 
—  for  it  did  not  come  of  nature,  but  by  grace  to  Von 
Stein,  —  he  was  so  lovely  to  every  one,  —  kept  his  hot 
temper  under  so  completely,  and  was  so  perfectly 
unselfish. 

Polly  laughed  at  my  enthusiasm,  and  said,  — 

"  The  Baron  always  was  your  hero  ;  but,  for  my 
part,  I  liked  our  dear  George  the  best  of  all  that  bril 
liant  company." 

"  There  is  no  need  of  telling  me  that,"  said  I. 

And  my  wife  laughed,  and  Polly  blushed. 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  she,  "  you  may  laugh  as  much 
as  you  choose,  but  I  like  him,  and  I  like  his  wife,  too. 
There  's  a  nice  letter  I  had  from  Gertrude  only  yester 
day.  If  you  could  see  him  with  the  children  as  much 
as  I  have,  if  you  knew  how  he  brought  everything 
into  play  for  them,  and  for  everybody ;  if  Wilhelm 
was  tired  in  the  train,  he  would  take  out  his  scissors 
and  cut  out  stags  and  boars  and  knights  out  of  the 
newspaper.  If  little  Minnie  was  sleepy,  he  would  tell 


GOOD   SOCIETY.  229 

such  ravishing  fairy  stories.  I  had  rather  a  man 
should  do  that  than  compose  sixty  sonatas." 

"  Especially,"  said  I,  "  if  he  be  a  real  count,  and 
be  named  on  the  great  book  at  Vienna." 

And  we  all  laughed,  and  went  out  to  dinner. 

II. 

After  I  had  helped  every  one  to  boiled  mutton,  and 
had  given  red  gravy  to  all  who  would,  Maria  began 
again. 

"  Now,  cousin,"  said  she,  "  you  will  own  that  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  good  society,  and  that  such  people 
as  the  Baron  and  Mrs.  Ingham's  Count  give  you  good 
society  when  you  meet  them,  and  that  that  is  better 
society  than  a  tea-party  at  Madam  Chenavard's,  or  a 
sewing-society  with  the  Dorcases." 

"  Well,  Maria,"  said  I,  "  I  never  met  the  Dorcases, 
and  I  do  not  know  Madam  Chenavard ;  but  I  dare 
say  what  you  say  is  true,  and  that  Polly's  Count 
George  and  my  Baron  Von  Stein  received  me  into 
better  society  than  either." 

Maria  thanked  me,  and  said  I  was  not  cross  a  bit, 
and  was  a  real  reasonable  cousin.     And  Polly's  eyes 
twinkled,  for  the   whole   conversation   had   been   her- 
plan.     "  And  how,  do  you  think,"  said  she,  "  that  we 
got  received  into  this  good  society  ?  " 

Maria  said  she  had  meant  to  ask. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  I.  "  I  saw  the  Baron  first 
on  the  stoop  here.  I  was  sitting  just  where  you  were 


230  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

when  the  dinner-bell  rang.  He  came  up  Hammond 
Street,  from  Main  Street,  looking  very  dusty  and  very 
tired.  He  was  very  shabby,  too.  He  had  a  little 
bundle  made  of  a  red  cotton  handkerchief,  and  a 
walking-stick.  I  asked  him  to  sit  down,  and  said  he 
looked  tired,  and  sent  for  a  glass  of  water.  Then  I 
found  he  had  had  no  dinner,  and  I  ordered  cold 
mutton  here,  and  bread  and  cheese.  And  we  came 
in,  and  he  sat  just  where  you  are  sitting  now,  and 
lie  ate  and  talked,  and  I  sat  here  and  questioned. 
After  he  had  eaten  his  mutton,  he  had  a  pear,  as  I 
hope  you  will  when  you  have  eaten  yours.  Then 
we  crossed  the  entry  and  came  into  the  study,  and  we 
had  a  long  talk  together.  At  last  we  got  more  at 
ease,  and  I  said  to  him  that  I  thought  he  was  about 
my  size,  and  that  I  had  an  old  coat  which  I  thought 
would  about  fit  him,  and  would  he  like  to  try  it  on. 
He  said  he  would,  and  I  went  up  stairs  and  got  it ;  and 
that  was  my  first  acquaintance  with  the  Baron  Von 
Stein,  and  that  was  the  way  that  afterward  he  came 
to  ask  us  to  stay  with  him  in  Silesia." 

"  O  cousin,"  said  Maria,  u  you  are  joking  !  " 
"  Not  in  the  least,  my  dear  child.  The  poor  fellow 
had  been  exiled  after  '49,  and  had  come  over  here. 
Here,  it  was  the  old  story  of  exile.  He  very  soon 
ran  through  his  ready  money.  What  could  he  do 
here?  Why,  he  could  write,  he  could  translate. 
And  he  did ;  wrote  his  twelve  hours  a  day,  and  I  do 
not  know  how  many  a  night.  Ruined  his  eyesight  by 


GOOD  SOCIETY.  231 

his  night  proof-reading.  He  must  do  it,  or  starve,  you 
know.  Then  he  was  blind  for  months.  Then  he  got 
a  little  sight, — just  enough  to  go  from  door  to  door. 
What  could  he  do  ?  What  but  what  he  did  ?  He 
went  bravely  from  town  to  town,  looking  for  pupils. 
But  who  wanted  a  teacher  that  could  not  see  the  book 
nor  read  the  exercises  ?  Ah,  Maria,  you  do  not  know 
exile  yet,  nor  how  soon  such  a  man's  coat  comes  out 
at  elbows." 

"  But  for  all  that,  he  was  as  accomplished  a  man 
when  he  ate  his  cold  mutton  here  as  he  was  in  his  own 
palace.  And  I  remember  I  enjoyed  our  talk  about 
Ulric  Von  Hutten  as  much,  that  afternoon,  as  I  ever 
did  any  talk  with  him  or  with  any  man.  I  felt  that 
we  had  been  in  very  good  society  that  day.  As  it 
happened,  you  see,  he  was  the  first  baron  I  had  ever 
shaken  hands  with." 

"  And  I,"  said  Polly,  —  who,  as  I  said,  had  led  this 
whole  talk,  almost  unknown  to  me,  and  wholly  to 
Maria,  —  "I  came  into  the  society  of  the  high  nobility 
of  the  old  families  in  this  way.  I  was  spending  the 
summer  and  autumn  in  Cincinnati.  Fred  was  sup 
plying  the  pulpit  there.  There  came  down  a  note 
from  Governor  Vance,  to  say  that  he  had  heard  noth 
ing  from  a  German  artist,  named  George  Lichtenstein, 
who  had  promised  to  write  to  him.  Would  Fred  or 
I  call  and  see  if  they  were  all  well  ?  I  went  to  the 
place,  and  found  the  furniture  had  been  sold  at  auction 
the  week  before.  This  looked  odd  ;  and  on  inquiry  it 


232  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

proved  that  it  had  all  been  pledged  for  the  rent  and 
seized  by  the  landlord.  Then  where  were  Mr.  George 
and  his  wife  and  little  girls  ?  A  pretty  hunt  they  gave 
.me.  But  what  with  the  police  and  the  schoolmistress, 
and  some  children  in  the  street,  after  three  or  four 
days,  I  found  them  in  a  tenement  room,  three  stories 
high,  perhaps  twelve  feet  square.  The  Count  George 
was  on  his  knees  scrubbing  up  the  floor,  and  his  three 
daughters  were  sitting  on  a  trunk,  because  there  was 
nothing  else  to  sit  on,  eating  three  doughnuts,  with 
nothing  else  to  eat.  That  was  the  way  Fred  and  I 
came  to  be  invited  afterwards  to  visit  them  in  Wirtem- 
burg,  and  then  went  with  them  to  Von  Stein's.  He 
and  Von  Stein  had  been  at  Halle  together  when  they 
were  young  men." 

"  I  do  not  say,  Maria,"  said  I,  "that  my  luck  with 
tramps  was  always  as  good  as  this.  They  are  often 
sad  sticks,  —  almost  always." 

"  And  I  do  not  say,"  said  Polly,  "  that  in  up-stairs 
ten-foot  tenements,  where  are  people  who  have  run 
away  from  their  landlords,  I  have  always  found  lovely 
German  girls  or  Counts  of  the  Empire." 

"  But  I  do  say,"  said  I,  "  that  the  first  requisite  of  good 
society  is,  that  you  shall  find  some  one  who  knows  what 
you  do  not,  and  has  some  notions  to  exchange  against 
yours,  and  that  the  wider  the  range  of  my  acquaint 
ance  the  more  good  society  have  I  found." 

«  And  I  say,"  said  Polly,  "  that,  though  I  never 
made  any  effort  about  good  society,  it  has  happened 


GOOD  SOCIETY.  233 

that  I  have  found  it  as  often  among  the  people  who 
were  not  trained  in  my  way,  at  my  schools,  in  my  set, 
or  among  my  relatives,  as  anywhere." 

"  And  I  have  found,"  said  I,  "  that  by  entertaining 
strangers,  I  have  sometimes  entertained  angels   una- 


DAILY    BREAD. 

A    CHRISTMAS   STORY. 
[First  published  in  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser  of  Dec.  25, 1869.] 

I. 
A    QUESTION    OF    NOURISHMENT. 

"AND  how  is  he?"  said  Robert,  as  he  came  in, 
from  his  day's  work,   in  every  moment  of  which  he 
had  thought  of  his  child.     He  spoke  in  a  whisper  to 
his  wife,  who  met  him  in  the  narrow  entry  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs.     And  in  a  whisper  she  replied. 

u  He  is  certainly  no  worse,"  said  Mary;  "the  doc 
tor  says,  maybe  a  shade  better.  '  At  least,"  she  said, 
sitting  on  the  lower  step,  and  holding  her  husband's 
hand,  and  still  whispering,  —  "  at  least  he  said  that  the 
breathing  seemed  to  him  a  shade  easier,  one  lung 
seemed  to  him  a  little  more  free,  and  that  it  is  now  a 
question  of  time  and  nourishment." 

tc  Nourishment  ?  " 

"  Yes,  nourishment,  —  and  I  own  my  heart  sunk  as 
he  said  so.  Poor  little  thing,  he  loathes  the  slops,  and 
I  told  the  doctor  so.  I  told  him  the  struggle  and  fight 
to  get  them  down  his  poor  little  throat  gave  him  more 


DAILY  BREAD.  235 

flush  and  fever  than  anything.  And  then  he  begged 
me  not  to  try  that  again,  asked  if  there  were  really 
nothing  that  the  child  would  take,  and  suggested  every 
thing  so  kindly.  But  the  poor  little  thing,  weak  as  he 
is,  seems  to  rise  up  with  supernatural  strength  against 
them  all.  I  am  not  sure,  though,  but  perhaps  we  may 
do  something  with  the  old  milk  and  water;  that  is 
really  my  only  hope  now,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  spoke 
to  you  so  cheerfully." 

Then  poor  Mary  explained  more  at  length  that 
Emily  had  brought  in  Dr.  Cummings's  Manual  about 
the  use  of  milk  with  children,  and  that  they  had  sent 
round  to  the  Corlisses',  who  always  had  good  milk, 
and  had  set  a  pint  according  to  the  direction,  and  had 
watered  it  thus  and  so  according  to  the  formula  ;  and 
that  though  dear  little  Jamie  had  refused  the  groats 
and  the  barley,  and  I  know  not  what  else,  that  at  six 
he  had  gladly  taken  all  the  watered  milk  they  dared 
to  give  him,  and  that  it  now  had  rested  on  his  stomach 
half  an  hour,  so  that  she  could  not  but  hope  that  the 
tide  had  turned,  only  she  hoped  with  trembling,  be 
cause  he  had  so  steadily  refused  cow's  milk  only  the 
week  before. 

This  rapid  review  in  her  entry,  of  the  bulletins  of 
a  day,  is  really  the  beginning  of  this  Christmas  story. 
No  matter  which  day  it  was, — it  was  a  little  before 
Christinas,  and  one  of  the  shortest  days,  but  I  have 
forgotten  which.  Enough  that  the  baby,  for  he  was  a 
baby  still,  just  entering  his  thirteenth  month,  —  enough 


236  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

that  he  did  relish  the  milk,  so  carefully  measured  and 
prepared,  and  hour  by  hour  took  his  little  dole  of  it  as 
if  it  had  come  from  his  mother's  breast.  Enough  that 
three  or  four  days  went  by  so,  the  little  thing  ly 
ing  so  still  on  his  back  in  his  crib,  his  lips  still  so  blue, 
and  his  skin  of  such  deadly  color  against  the  white  of 
his  pillow ;  and  that,  twice  a  day,  as  Dr.  Morton  came 
in  and  felt  his  pulse,  and  listened  to  the  panting,  he 
smiled  and  looked  pleased,  and  said,  "  We  are  getting 
on  better  than  I  dared  expect."  Only  every  time  he 
said,  "  Does  he  still  relish  the  milk  ?  "  and  every 
time  was  so  pleased  to  know  that  he  took  to  it  still, 
and  every  day  he  added  a  teaspoonful  or  two  to  the 
hourly  dole ;  and  so  poor  Mary's  heart  was  lifted  day 
by  day. 

This  lasted  till  St.  Victoria's  day.  Do  you  know 
which  day  that  is  ?  It  is  the  second  day  before  Christ 
mas,  and  here,  properly  speaking,  the  story  begins. 

n. 

ST.  VICTORIA'S    DAY. 

St.  Victoria's  day  the  doctor  was  full  two  hours 
late.  Mary  was  not  anxious  about  this.  She  was  be 
ginning  to  feel  bravely  about  the  boy,  and  no  longer 
counted  the  minutes  till  she  could  hear  the  door-bell 
ring.  When  he  came  he  loitered  in  the  entry  below, 
—  or  she  thought  he  did.  He  was  long  coming  up 
stairs.  And,  when  he  came  in,  she  saw  that  he  was 


DAILY  BEE  AD.  23  T 

excited  by  something,  —  was  really  even  then  panting 
for  breath. 

"  I  am  here  at  last,"  he  said.  "  Did  you  think  I 
should  fail  you  ?  " 

Why  no,  poor  innocent  Mary  had  not  thought  of 
any  such  thing.  She  had  known  he  would  come ; 
and  baby  was  so  well  that  she  had  not  minded  his 
delay. 

Morton  looked  up  at  the  close-drawn  shades,  which 
shut  out  the  light,  and  said,  «  You  did  not  think  of 
the  storm  ?  " 

"  Storm  ?  no  !  "  said  poor  Mary.  She  had  noticed, 
when  Robert  went  to  the  door  at  seven  and  she 
closed  it  after  him,  that  some  snow  was  falling.  But 
she  had  not  thought  of  it  again.  She  had  kissed  him, 
told  him  to  keep-  up  good  heart,  and  had  come  back  to 
her  baby. 

Then  the  doctor  told  her  that  the  storm  which  had 
begun  before  daybreak  had  been  gathering  more  and 
more  severely;  that  the  drifts  were  already  heavier 
than  he  remembered  them  in  all  his  Boston  life  ;  that 
after  half  an  hour's  trial  in  his  sleigh  he  had  been  glad 
to  get  back  to  the  stable  with  his  horse,  and  that  all  he 
had  done  since  he  had  done  on  foot,  with  difficulty  she 
could  not  conceive  of.  He  had  been  so  long  down 
stairs  while  he  brushed  the  snow  off,  that  he  might  be 
fit  to  come  near  the  child. 

"And  really,  Mrs.  Walter,  we  are  doing  so  well 
here,"  he  said  cheerfully,  « that  I  will  not  try  to  come 


238  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

round  this  afternoon,  unless  you  see  a  change.  If  you 
do,  your  husband  must  come  up  for  me,  you  know. 
But  you  will  not  need  me,  I  am  sure." 

Mary  felt  quite  brave  to  think  that  they  should  not 
need  him  really  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  said  so ; 
and  added,  with  the  first  smile  he  had  seen  for  a  fort 
night  :  "  I  do  not  know  anybody  to  whom  it  is  of  less 
account  than  to  me,  whether  the  streets  are  blocked 
or  open.  Only  I  am  sorry  for  you." 

Poor  Mary,  how  often  she  thought  of  that  speech, 
before  Christmas  day  went  by !  But  she  did  not 
think  of  it  all  through  St.  Victoria's  day.  Her  hus 
band  did  not  come  home  to  dinner.  She  did  not 
expect  him;  The  children  came  from  school  at  two, 
rejoicing  in  the  long  morning  session  and  the  half-holi 
day  of  the  afternoon  which  had  been  earned  by  it. 
They  had  some  story  of  their  frolic  in  the  snow,  and 
after  dinner  went  quietly  away  to  their  little  play-room 
in  the  attic.  And  Mary  sat  with  her  baby  all  the 
afternoon,  nor  wanted  other  company.  She  could 
count  his  breathing  now,  and  knew  how  to  time  it 
by  the  watch,  and  she  knew  that  it^vvas  steadier  and 
slower  than  it  was  the  day  before.  And  really  he 
almost  showed  an  appetite  for  the  hourly  dole.  Her 
husband  was  not  late.  He  had  taken  care  of  that, 
and  had  left  the  shop  an  hour  early.  And  .as  he 
came  in  and  looked  at  the  child  from  the  other  side  of 
the  crib,  and  smiled  so  cheerfully  on  her,  Mary  felt 
that  she  could  not  enough  thank  God  for  his  mercy. 


DAILY  BREAD.  239 

in. 

ST.  VICTORIA'S  DAY  IN  THE  COUNTRY. 

Five-and-twenty  miles  away  was  another  mother, 
with  a  baby  born  the  same  day  as  Jamie.  Mary  had 
never  heard  of  her  and  never  has  heard  of  her,  and, 
unless  she  reads  this  story,  never  will  hear  of  her  till 
they  meet  together  in  the  other  home,  look  each  other 
in  the  face,  and  know  as  they  are  known.  Yet  their 
two  lives,  as  you  shall  see,  are  twisted  together,  as 
indeed  are  all  lives,  only  they  do  not  know  it,  —  as 
how  should  they  ? 

A  great  day  for  Huldah  Stevens  was  this  St.  Vic 
toria's  day.  Not  that  she  knew  its  name  more  than 
Mary  did.  Indeed,  it  was  only  of  late  years  that 
Huldah  Stevens  had  cared  much  for  keeping  Christ 
mas  day.  But  of  late  years  they  had  all  thought  of 
it  more  ;  and,  this  year,  on  Thanksgiving  day,  at  old 
Mr.  Stevens's,  after  great  joking  about  the  young 
people's  housekeeping,  it  had  been  determined,  with 
some  banter,  that  the  same  party  should  meet  with 
John  and  Huldah  on  Christmas  eve,  with  all  Huldah's 
side  of  the  house  besides,  to  a  late  dinner  or  early 
supper,  as  the  guests  might  please  to  call  it.  Little 
difference  between  the  meals,  indeed,  was  there  ever 
in  the  profusion  of  these  country  homes.  The  men 
folks  were  seldom  at  home  at  the  noonday  meal,  call 
it  what  you  will;  for  they  were  all  in  the  milk 
business,  as  you  will  see.  And,  what  with  collecting 


240  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

the  milk  from  the  hill-farms,  on  the  one  hand,  and  then 
carrying  it  for  delivery  at  the  three-o'clock  morning 
milk-train,  on  the  other  hand,  any  hours  which  you, 
dear  reader,  might  consider  systematic,  or  of  course 
in  country  life,  were  certainly  always  set  aside.  But, 
after  much  conference,  as  I  have  said,  it  had  been 
determined  at  the  Thanksgiving  party  that  all  hands 
of  both  families  should  meet  at  John  and  Huldah's 
as  near  three  o'clock  as  they  could  the  day  before 
Christmas  ;  and  then  and  there  Huldah  was  to  show 
her  powers  in  entertaining,  at  her  first  state  family 
party. 

So  this  St.  Victoria's  day  was  a  great  day  of  prep 
aration  for  Huldah,  if  she  had  only  known  its  name, 
as  she  did  not.  For  she  was  of  the  kind  which  pre 
pares  in  time,  not  of  the  kind  that  is  caught  out  when 
the  company  come,  with  the  work  half  done.  And  as 
John  started  on  his  collection  beat  that  morning  at 
about  the  hour  Robert,  in  town,  kissed  Mary  good  by, 
Huldah  stood  on  the  step  with  him,  and  looked  with 
satisfaction  on  the  gathering  snow,  because  it  would 
make  better  sleighing  the  next  day  for  her  father  and 
mother  to  come  over.  She  charged  him  not  to  forget 
her  box  of  raisins  when  he  came  back,  and  to  ask  at 
the  express  if  anything  came  up  from  town,  bade  him 
good  by,  and  turned  back  into  the  house,  not  wholly 
dissatisfied  to  be  almost  alone.  She  washed  her  baby, 
gave  her  her  first  lunch,  and  put  her  to  bed.  Then, 
with  the  coast  fairly  clear,  —  what  woman  does  not 


DAILY  BREAD.  241 

enjoy  a  clear  coast,  if  it  only  be  early  enough  in  the 
morning?  — she  dipped  boldly  and    wisely  "into    her 
flour-barrel,  stripped  her  plump  round  arms  to  their 
work,  and  began  on  the  pie-crust  which  was  to  appear 
to-morrow  in  the  fivefold  forms  of  apple,   cranberry, 
Maryborough,  mince,  and  squash,  careful  and  discrimi 
nating  in  the  nice  chemistry  of  her  mixtures  and  the 
nice  manipulations  of  her  handicraft,  but  in  no  wise 
dreading  the  issue.     A  long,  active,  lively  morning 
she  had  of  it,     Not  dissatisfied  with  the  stages  of  her 
work,  step  by  step  she  advanced,  stage  by  stage  she 
attained  of  the  elaborate  plan  which  was  well  laid  out 
in  her  head,  but  of  course,  had  never  bsen  intrusted 
to  words,  far  less  to  telltale  paper.     From  the  oven 
at  last  came  the  pies,  — and  she  was  satisfied  with  the 
color ;  from  the  other  oven  came  the  turkey,  which 
she  proposed  to  have   cold,   as    a   relay,   or  piSce  de 
resistance,  for  any  who  might  not  be  at  hand  at  the 
right  moment  for  dinner.     Into  the  empty  oven  went 
the    clove-blossoming  ham,   which,   as  it   boiled,   had 
given  the  least  appetizing  odor  to  the  kitchen.     In  the 
pretty  moulds  in  the  wood-shed  stood  the  translucent 
cranberry  hardening  to  its  fixed  consistency.     In  other 
moulds  the  obedient  calf 's-foot  already  announced  its 
willingness  and  intention  to  «  gell  "  as   she  directed. 
Huldah's  decks  were  cleared  again,  her  kitchen  table 
fit  to  cut  out  «  work  >'  upon,  -all  the  pans  and  plates 
were   put  away,   which    accumulate    so    mysteriously 
where  cooking  is  going  forward  ;  on  its  nail  huno-  the 


11 


242  THE   INGHAM   PAPERS. 

weary  jigger,  on  its  hook  the  spicy  grater,  on  the  roller 
a  fresh  towel.  Everything  gave  sign  of  victory,  — 
the  whole  kitchen  looking  only  a  little  nicer  than  usual. 
Huldah  herself  was  dressed  for  the  afternoon,  and  so 
was  the  baby ;  and  nobody  but  as  acute  observers  as 
you  and  I  would  have  known  that  she  had  been  in 
action  all  along  the  line,  and  had  won  the  battle  at 
every  point,  when  /  two  o'clock  came,  the  earliest 
moment  at  which  her  husband  ever  returned. 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  it  occurred  to  Huldah  to 
look  out  doors  and  see  how  fast  the  snow  was  gather 
ing.  She  knew  it  was  still  falling.  But  the  storm 
was  a  quiet  one,  and  she  had  had  too  much  to  do  to 
be  gaping  out  of  the  windows.  She  went  to  the  shed 
door,  and,  to  her  amazement,  saw  that  the  north  wood 
pile  was  wholly  drifted  in  !  Nor  could  she,  as  she 
stood,  see  the  fences  of  the  roadway ! 

Huldah  ran  back  into  the  house,  opened  the  par 
lor  door  and  drew  up  the  curtain,  to  see  that  there 
were  indeed  no  fences  on  the  front  of  the  house  to 
be  seen.  On  the  northwest,  where  the  wind  had  full 
sweep,  between  her  and  the  barn,  the  ground  was 
bare.  But  all  that  snow,  and  who  should  say  how 
much  more,  was  piled  up  in  front  of  her ;  so  that 
unless  Huldah  had  known  every  landmark,  she  would 
not  have  suspected  that  any  road  was  ever  there. 
She  looked  uneasily  out  at  the  northwest  windows, 
but  she  could  not  see  an  inch  to  windward;  dogged 
Bnow,  snow,  snow,  as  if  it  would  never  be  done. 


DAILY  BREAD.  243 

Huldah  knew  very  well  then  that  there  was  no  hus 
band  for  her  in  the  next  hour,  nor  most  like  in  the 
next  or  the  next.  She  knew  very  well,  too,  what  she 
had  to  do,  —  and,  knowing  it,  she  did  it.  She  tied  on 
her  hood,  and  buttoned  tight  around  her  her  rough 
sack,  passed  through  the  shed  and  crossed  that  bare 
strip  to  the  barn,  opened  the  door  with  some  difficulty, 
because  snow  was  already  drifting  into  the  doorway, 
and  entered.  She  gave  the  cows  and  oxen  their  water, 
and  the  two  night  horses  theirs  ;  went  up  into  the 
loft  and  pitched  down  hay  enough  for  all ;  went 
down  stairs  to  the  pigs  and  cared  for  them  ;  took  one 
of  the  barn  shovels  and  cleared  a  path  where  she 
had  had  to  plunge  into  the  snow  at  the  doorway ;  took 
the  shovel  back,  and  then  crossed  home  again  to  her 
baby.  She  thought  she  saw  the  Empsons'  chimney 
smoking  as  she  went  home,  and  that  seemed  com 
panionable.  She  took  off  her  over-shoes,  sack,  and 
hood,  said  aloud,  "  This  will  be  a  good  stay-at-home 
da}',"  brought  round  her  desk  to  the  kitchen  table, 
and  began  on  a  nice  long  letter  to  her  brother  Cephas 
in  Sceattle. 

That  letter  was  finished,  eight  good  quarto  pages 
written,  and  a  long-delayed  letter  to  Emily  Tabor, 
whom  Huldah  had  not  seen  since  she  was  married ; 
and  a  long  pull  at  her  milk  accounts  had  brought  them 
up  to  date,  —  and  still  no  John.  Huldah  had  the 
table  all  set,  you  may  be  sure  of  that ;  but  for  her 
self,  she  had  had  no  heart  to  go  through  the  formalities 


244  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

of  lunch  or  dinner.  A  cup  of  tea  and  something  to 
eat  with  it  as  she  wrote  did  better,  she  thought,  for 
her;  and  she  could  eat  when  the  men  came.  It  is  a 
way  women  have.  Not  till  it  became  quite  dark,  and 
she  set  her  kerosene  lamp  in  the  window  that  he  might 
have  a  chance  to  see  it  when  he  turned  the  Locust 
Grove  corner,  did  Huldah  once  feel  herself  lonely,  or 
permit  herself  to  wish  that  she  did  not  live  in  a  place 
where  she  could  be  cut  off  from  all  her  race.  "  If 
John  had  gone  into  partnership  with  Jo  Winter,  and 
we  had  lived  in  Boston  !  "  This  was  the  thought  that 
crossed  her  mind.  Dear  Huldah,  from  the  end  of 
one  summer  to  the  beginning  of  the  next,  Jo  Winter 
does  not  go  home  to  his  dinner  ;  and  what  you  ex 
perience  to-day,  so  far  as  absence  from  your  husband 
goes,  is  what  his  wife  experiences  in  Boston  ten 
months,  save  Sundays,  in  every  year. 

I  do  not  mean  that  Huldah  winced  or  whined. 
Not  she.  Only  she  did  think  "if."  Then  she  sat  in 
front  of  the  stove  and  watched  the  coals,  and  for  a 
little  while  continued  to  think  "  if."  Not  long.  Very 
soon  she  was  engaged  in  planning  how  she  would  ar 
range  the  table  to-morrow,  —  whether  mother  Stevens 
should  cut  the  chicken-pie,  or  whether  she  would  have 
that  in  front  of  her  own  mother.  Then  she  fell  to 
planning  what  she  would  make  for  Cynthia's  baby  ; 
and  then  to  wondering  whether  Cephas  was  in  ear 
nest  in  that  half-nonsense  he  wrote  about  Sibyl  Dyer  ; 
and  then  the  clock  struck  six  ! 


DAILY   BREAD.  245 

No  bells  yet,  no  husband,  no  anybody.  Lan 
tern  out  and  lighted.  Rubber  boots  on,  hood  and 
sack.  Shed-shovel  in  one  hand,  lantern  in  the  other. 
Roadway  still  bare,  but  a  drift  as  high  as  Huldah's 
shoulders  at  the  barn  door.  Lantern  on  the  ground ; 
snow-shovel  in  both  hands  now.  One,  two,  three ! 
—  one  cubic  foot  out.  One,  two,  three  !  —  another 
cubic  foot  out.  And  so  on,  and  so  on,  and  so  on, 
till  the  doorway  is  clear  again.  Lantern  in  one 
hand,  snow-shovel  in  the  other,  we  enter  the  barn, 
draw  the  water  for  cows  and  oxen  ;  we  shake  down 
more  hay,  and  see  to  the  pigs  again.  This  time  we 
make  beds  of  straw  for  the  horses  and  the  cattle.  Nay, 
we  linger  a  minute  or  two,  for  there  is  something  com 
panionable  there.  Then  we  shut  them  in  the  dark, 
and  cross  the  well-cleared  roadway  to  the  shed,  and  so 
home  again.  Certainly  Mrs.  Empson's  kerosene  lamp 
is  in  her  window.  That  must  be  her  light  which  gives 
a-  little  halo  in  that  direction  in  the  falling  snow. 
That  looks  like  society. 

And  this  time  Huldah  undresses  the  baby,  puts  on 
her  yellow  flannel  nightgown,  —  makes  the  whole  as 
long  as  it  may  be,  —  and  then,  still  making  believe  be 
jolly,  lights  another  lamp,  eats  her  own  supper,  clears  it 
away,  and  cuts  into  the  new  Harper  which  John  had 
brought  up  to  her  the  day  before. 

But  the  Harper  is  dull  reading  to  her,  though 
generally  so  attractive.  And  when  her  Plymouth 
Hollow  clock  consents  to  strike  eight  at  last,  Huldah, 


246  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

who  has  stented  herself  to  read  till  eight,  gladly  puts 
down  the  "  Travels  in  Arizona,"  which  seem  to  her  as 
much  like  the  "  Travels  in  Peru,"  of  the  month  before, 
as  those  had  seemed  like  the  "  Travels  in  Chinchilla." 
Rubber  boots  again,  lantern  again,  sack  and  hood 
a«;ain.  The  men  will  be  in  no  case  for  milkino-  when 

£3  O 

they  come.  So  Huldah  brings  together  their  pails, 
takes  her  shovel  once  more  and  her  lantern,  digs 
out  the  barn  drift  again,  and  goes  over  to"  milk  little 
Carry  and  big  Fanchon.  For,  though  the  milk  of  a 
hundred  cows  passes  under  those  roofs  and  out  again 
every  day,  Huldah  is  far  too  conservative  to  abandon 
the  custom  which  she  inherits  from  some  Thorfinn  or 
some  Elfrida ;  and  her  husband  is  well  pleased  to  hu 
mor  her,  in  keeping  in  that  barn  always  at  least  two 
of  the  choicest  three-quarter  blood  cows  that  he  can 
choose  for  the  family  supply.  Only,  in  general,  he  or 
Reuben  milks  them  ;  as  duties  are  divided  there,  this 
is  not  Huldah's  share.  But  on  this  eve  of  St.  Spiri- 
don  the  gentle  creatures  were  glad  when  she  came  in ; 
and  in  two  journeys  back  and  forth  Huldah  had 
carried  her  well-filled  pails  into  her  dairy.  This 
helped  along  the  hour,  and  just  after  nine  o'clock 
struck  she  could  hear  the  cheers  of  the  men  at  last. 
She  ran  out  again  with  the  ready  lighted  lantern  to 
the  shed  door,  —  in  an  instant  had  on  her  boots  and 
sack  and  hood,  —  had  crossed  to  the  barn,  and  slid 
open  the  great  barn  door,  —  and  stood  there  with  her 
light,  —  another  Hero  for  another  Leander  to  buffet 


DAILY  BREAD.  247 

towards,  through  the  snow.  A  sight  to  see  were  the  two 
men,  to  be  sure  !  And  a  story  indeed  they  had  to  tell ! 
On  their  different  beats  they  had  fought  snow  all  day  ; 
had  been  breaking  roads  with  the  help  of  the  farmers 
where  they  could ;  had  had  to  give  up  more  than  hali 
of  the  outlying  farms,  sending  such  messages  as  they 
might,  that  the  outlying  farmers  might  bring  down 
to-morrow's  milk  to  such  stations  as  they  could  ar 
range  ;  and,  at  last,  by  good  luck,  had  both  met  at  the 
depot  in  the  hollow,  where  each  had  gone  to  learn  at 
what  hour  the  milk-train  might  be  expected  in  the 
morning.  Little  reason  was  there  indeed  to  expect 
it  at  all.  Nothing  had  passed  the  station-master  since 
the  morning  express,  called  lightning  by  satire,  had 
slowly  pushed  up  with  three  or  four  engines  five  hours 
behind  its  time,  and  just  now  had  come  down  a  mes 
senger  from  them  that  he  should  telegraph  to  Boston 
that  they  were  all  blocked  up  at  Tyler's  Summit,  — 
the  snow  drifting  beneath  their  wheels  faster  than  they 
could  clear  it.  Above,  the  station-master  said^  noth 
ing  whatever  had  yet  passed  Winchendon.  Five  en 
gines  had  gone  out  from  Fitchburg  eastward,  but  in  the 
whole  day  they  had  not  come  as  far  as  Leominster. 
It  was  very  "clear  that  no  milk-train  nor  any  other 
train  would  be  on  time  the  next  morning. 

Such  was,  in  brief,  John's  report  to  Huldah,  when 
they  had  got  to  that  state  of  things  in  which  a  man 
can  make  a  report ;  that  is,  after  they  had  rubbed  dry 
the  horses,  had  locked  up  the  barn,  after  the  men  had 


248  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

rubbed  themselves  dry  and  had  put  on  dry  clothing, 
and  after  each  of  them,  sitting  on  the  fire  side  of 
the  table,  had  drunk  his  first  cup  of  tea  and  eaten  his 
first  square  cubit  of  dip-toast.  After  the  dip-toast, 
they  were  going  to  begin  on  Huldah's  fried  potatoes 
and  sausages. 

Huldah  heard  their  stories  with  all  their  infinite 
little  details ;  knew  every  corner  and  turn  by  which 
they  had  husbanded  strength  and  life ;  was  grateful  to 
the  Corbetts  and  Varnums  and  Prescotts  and  the  rest, 
who,  with  their  oxen  and  their  red  right-hands  had 
given  such  loyal  help  for  the  common  good ;  and 
she  heaved  a  deep  sigh  when  the  story  ended  with  the 
verdict  of  the  failure  of  the  whole,  —  "  No  trains  on 
time  to-morrow." 

"  Bad  for  the  Boston  babies,"  said  Reuben  bluntly, 
giving  words  to  what  the  others  were  feeling.  "  Poor 
little  things  !  "  said  Huldah,  "  Alice  has  been  so  pretty 
all  day."  And  she  gulped  down  just  one  more  sigh, 
disgusted  with  herself  as  she  remembered  that  "  if" 
of  the  afternoon,  "  If  John  had  only  gone  into 
partnership  with  Jo  Winter." 

IV. 

HOW    THEY    BROKE    THE    BLOCKADE. 

Three  o'clock  in  the  morning  saw  Huldah's  fire 
burning  in  the  stove,  her  water  boiling  in  the  kettle, 
her  slices  of  ham  broiling  on  the  gridiron,  and  quarter 


DAILY   BREAD.  249 

past  three  saw  the  men  come  across  from  the  barn, 
where  they  had  been  shaking  down  hay  for  the  cows 
and  horses,  and  yoking  the  oxen  for  the  terrible  onset 
of  the  day.  It  was  bright  starlight  above,  —  thank 
Heaven  for  that.  This  strip  of  three  hundred  thou 
sand  square  miles  of  snow  cloud,  which  had  been  drift 
ing  steadily  east  over  a  continent,  was,  it  seemed,  only 
twenty  hours  wide,  —  say  two  hundred  miles,  more  or 
less,  —  and  at  about  midnight  its  last  flecks  had  fallen, 
and  all  the  heaven  was  washed  black  and  clear.  The 
men  were  well  rested  by  those  five  hours  of  hard  sleep. 
They  were  fitly  dressed  for  their  great  encounter,  and 
started  cheerily  upon  it,  as  men  who  meant  to  do  their 
duty,  and  to  both  of  whom,  indeed,  the  thought  had 
come  that  life  and  death  might  be  trembling  in  their 
hands.  They  did  not  take  out  the  pungs  to-day,  nor, 
of  course,  the  horses.  Such  milk  as  they  had  col 
lected  on  St.  Victoria's  day  they  had  stored  already  at 
the  station  and  at  Stacy's,  and  the  best  they  could  do 
to-day  would  be  to  break  open  the  road  from  the  Four 
Corners  to  the  station,  that  they  might  place  as  many 
cans  as  possible  there  before  the  down  train  came. 
From  the  house,  then,  they  had  only  to  drive  down 
their  oxen  that  they  might  work  with  the  other  teams 
from  the  Four  Corners  ;  and  it  was  only  by  begging 
him  that  Huldah  persuaded  Reuben  to  take  one  lunch 
can  for  them  both.  Then,  as  Reuben  left  the  door, 
leaving  John  to  kiss  her  good  by,  and  to  tell  her 
not  to  be  alarmed  if  they  did  not  come  home  at  night, 


11  * 


250  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

—  she  gave  to  John  the  full  milk- can  Into  which  she 
had  poured  every  drop  of  Carry's  milk,  and  said,  "  It 
•will  be   one  more,  and  God  knows  what  child  may 
be  crying  for  it  now." 

So  they  parted  for  eight-and-twenty  hours  ;  and  in 
place  of  Huldah's  first  state  party  of  both  families,  she 
and  Alice  reigned  solitary  that  day,  and  held  their  lit 
tle  court  with  never  a  suitor.  And  when  her  lunch- 
time  came,  Huldah  looked  half  mournfully,  half  mer 
rily,  on  her  array  of  dainties  prepared  for  the  feast, 
and  she  would  not  touch  one  of  them.  She  toasted 
some  bread  b'efore  the  fire,  made  a  cup  of  tea,  boiled 
an  egg,  and  would  not  so  much  as  set  the  table.  As 
has  been  before  stated,  this  is  the  way  with  women. 

And  of  the  men,  who  shall  tell  the  story  of  the 
pluck  and  endurance,  of  the  unfailing  good-will,  of  the 
resource  in  strange  emergency,  of  the  mutual  help  and 
common  courage,  with  which  they  all  worked  that 
day  on  that  wellnigh  hopeless  task,  of  breaking  open 
the  highway  from  the  Corners  to  the  station  ?  Well- 
nigh  hopeless,  indeed  ;  for  although  at  first,  with  fresh 
cattle  and  united  effort,  they  made  in  the  hours,  which 
passed  so  quickly  up  to  ten  o'clock,  near  two  miles' 
headway,  and  had  brought  yesterday's  milk  thus  far, 

—  more  than  half-way  to  their  point  of  delivery,  —  at 
ten  o'clock  it  was  quite  evident  that  this  sharp  north 
west  wind,  which  told  so  heavily  on  the   oxen  and 
even  on  the  men,  was  filling  in  the  very  roadway  they 
had  opened,  and  so  was  cutting  them  off  from  their 


DAILY   BREAD.  251 

base,  and,  by  its  new  drifts,  was  leaving  the  roadway 
for  to-day's  milk  even  worse  than  it  was  when  they 
began.  In  one  of  those  extemporized  councils,  then, 
• —  such  as  fought  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  threw 
the  tea  into  Boston  Harbor, — it  was  determined,  at 
ten  o'clock,  to  divide  the  working  parties.  The  larger 
body  should  work  back  to  the  Four  Corners,  and  by 
proper  relays  keep  that  trunk  line  of  road  open,  if 
they  could ;  while  six  yoke,  with  their  owners,  still 
pressing  forward  to  the  station,  should  make  a  new 
base  at  Lovejoy's,  where,  when  these  oxen  gave  out, 
they  could  be  put  up  at  his  barn.  It  was  quite  clear, 
indeed,  to  the  experts,  that  that  time  was  not  far  dis 
tant. 

And  so  indeed  it  proved.  By  three  in  the  after 
noon,  John  and  Reuben,  and  the  other  leaders  of  the 
advance  party,  namely,  the  whole  of  it,  for  such  is  the 
custom  of  New  England,  gathered  around  the  fire  at 
Lovejoy's,  conscious  that  after  twelve  hours  of  such 
battle  as  Pavia  never  saw,  nor  Roncesvalles,  they 
were  defeated  at  every  point  but  one.  Before  them 
the  mile  of  road,  which  they  had  made  in  the  steady 
work  of  hours,  was  drifted  in  again  as  smooth  as  the 
surrounding  pastures,  only,  if  possible,  a  little  more 
treacherous  for  the  labor  which  they  had  thrown  away 
upon  it.  The  oxen  which  had  worked  kindly  and 
patiently,  well  handled  by  good-tempered  men,  yet  all 
confused  and  half  dead  with  exposure,  could  do  no 
more.  Well,  indeed,  if  those  that  had  been  stalled 


252  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

fast,  and  had  had  to  stand  in  that  biting  wind  after 
gigantic  effort,  escaped  with  their  lives  from  such 
exposure.  All  that  the  men  had  gained  was,  that  they 
had  advanced  their  first  depot  of  milk,  —  two  hundred 
and  thirty-nine  cans  —  as  far  as  Lovejoy's.  What 
supply  might  have  worked  down  to  the  Four  Corners 
behind  them,  they  did  not  know  and  hardly  cared, 
their  communications  that  way  being  wellnigh  cut  off 
again.  What  they  thought  of  and  planned  for  was 
simply  how  these  cans  at  Lovejoy's  could  be  put  on 
any  downward  train.  For,  by  this  time,  they  knew 
that  all  trains  would  have  lost  their  grades  and  their 
names,  and  that  this  milk  would  go  into  Boston  by  the 
first  engine  that  went  there,  though  it  rode  on  the 
velvet  of  a  "  palace  car." 

What  train  this  might  be  they  did  not  know.  From 
the  hill  above  Lovejoy's  they  could  see  poor  old  Dix, 
the  station-master,  with  his  wife  and  boys,  doing  his 
best  to  make  an  appearance  of  shovelling  in  front  of 
his  little  station.  But  Dix's  best  was  but  little,  for  he 
had  but  one  arm,  having  lost  the  other  in  a  collision  ; 
and  so,  as  a  sort  of  pension,  the  company  had  placed 
him  at  this  little  flag-station,  where  was  a  roof  over 
his  head,  a  few  tickets  to  sell,  and  generally  very 
little  else  to  do.  It  was  clear  enough  that  no  working 
parties  on  the  railroad  had  worked  up  to  Dix,  or  had 
worked  down,  nor  was  it  very  likely  that  any  would 
before  night,  unless  the  railroad  people  had  better  luck 
with  their  drifts  than  our  friends  had  found.  But  as 


DAILY   BREAD.  253 

to  this,  who  should  say  ?  Snow-drifts  are  "  mighty 
onsartain."  The  line  of  that  road  is  in  general  north 
west,  'and  to-day's  wind  might  have  cleaned  out  its 
gorges  as  persistently  as  it  had  filled  up  our  cross-cuts. 
From  Lovejoy's  barn  they  could  see  that  the  track  was 
now  perfectly  clear  for  the  Jbalf-mile  where  it  crossed 
the  Prescott  meadows. 

I  am  sorry  to  have  been  so  long  in  describing  thus 
the  aspect  of  the  field  after  the  first  engagement.  But 
it  was  on  this  condition  of  affairs  that,  after  full  con 
ference,  the  enterprises  of  the  night  were  determined. 
Whatever  was  to  be  done  was  to  be  done  by  men. 
And  after  thorough  regale  on  Mrs.  Lovejoy's  green 
tea,  and  continual  return  to  her  constant  relays  of  thin 
bacon  gilded  by  unnumbered  eggs  ;  after  cutting  and 
coming  again  upon  unnumbered  mince-pies,  which,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  did  not  in  any  point  compare  well 
with  Huldah's,  —  each  man  thrust  many  doughnuts 
into  his  outside  pockets,  drew  on  the  long  boots  again, 
and  his  buckskin  gloves  and  mittens,  and,  unencum 
bered  now  by  the  care  of  animals,  started  on  the  work 
of  the  evening.  The  sun  was  just  taking  his  last  look 
at  them  from  the  western  hills,  where  Reuben  and 
John  could  see  Huldah's  chimney  smoking.  The  plan 
was,  by  taking  a  double  hand-sled  of  Lovejoy's,  and  by 
knocking  together  two  or  three  more,  jumper-fashion, 
to  work  their  way  across  the  meadow  to  the  railroad 
causeway,  and  establish  a  milk  depot  there,  where 
the  line  was  not  half  a  mile  from  Lovejoy's.  By 


254  THE  IXGHAM  PAPERS. 

going  and  coming  often,  following  certain  tracks  well 
known  to  Lovejoy  on  the  windward  side  of  walls 
and  fences,  these  eight  men  felt  quite  sure  that,  by 
midnight,  they  could  place  all  their  milk  at  the  spot 
where  the  old  farm  crossing  strikes  the  railroad. 
Meanwhile  Silas  Lovejoy,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  was  to 
put  on  a  pair  of  snow-shoes,  go  down  to  the  station, 
state  the  case  to  old  Dix,  and  get  from  him  a  red 
lantern  and  permission  to  stop  the  first  train  where  it 
swept  out  from  the  Pitman  cut  upon  the  causeway. 
Old  Dix  had  no  more  right  to  give  this  permission 
than  had  the  humblest  street-sweeper  in  Ispahan,  and 
this  they  all  knew.  But  the  fact  that  Silas  had  asked 
for  it  would  show  a  willingness  on  their  part  to  submit 
to  authority,  if  authority  there  had  been.  This  satis 
fied  the  New  England  love  of  law  on  the  one  hand. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  train  would  be  stopped,  and 
this  satisfied  the  New  England  determination  to  get 
the  thing  done  any  way.  To  give  additional  force  to 
Silas,  John  provided  him  with  a  note  to  Dix,  and  it  was 
generally  agreed  that,  if  Dix  was  n't  ugly,  he  would 
give  the  red  lantern  and  the  permission.  Silas  was 
then  to  work  up  the  road  and  station  himself  as  far 
beyond  the  curve  as  he  could,  and  stop  the  first  down 
train.  He  was  to  tell  the  conductor  where  the  men 
were  waiting  with  the  milk,  was  to  come  down  to 
them  on  the  train,  and  his  duty  would  be  done.  Lest 
Dix  should  be  ugly,  Silas  was  provided  with  Lovejoy's 
only  lantern,  but  he  was  directed  not  to  show  this  at 


DAILY  BREAD.  255 


the  station  until  his  interview  was  finished. 
started  cheerfully  on  his  snow-shoes  ;  John  and  Love- 
joy,  at  the  same  time,  starting  with  the  first  hand-sled 
of  the  cans.  First  of  all  into  the  sled  John  put 
Huldah's  well-known  can,  a  little  shorter  than  the 
others,  and  with  a  different  handle.  "  Whatever  else 
went  to  Boston,"  he  said,  "  that  can  was  bound  to  go 
through." 

They  established  '  the  basis  of  their  pyramid,  and 
met  the  three  new  jumpers  with  their  makers  as  they 
went  back  for  more.  This  party  enlarged  the  base  of 
the  pyramid,  and,  as  they  worked,  Silas  passed  them 
cheerfully  with  his  red  lantern.  Old  Dix  had  not 
been  ugly,  had  given  the  lantern  and  all  the  permis 
sion  he  had  to  give,  and  had  communicated  some  intel 
ligence  also.  The  intelligence  was,  that  an  accumu 
lated  force  of  seven  engines,  with  a  large  working 
party,  had  left  Groton  Junction  downward  at  three. 
Nothing  had  arrived  upward  at  Groton  Junction,  and, 
from  Boston,  Dix  learned  that  nothing  more  would 
leave  there  till  early  morning.  No  trains  had  arrived 
in  Boston  from  any  quarter  for  twenty-four  hours.  So 
long  the  blockade  had  lasted  already. 

On  this  intelligence  it  was  clear  that,  with  good 
luck,  the  down  train  might  reach  them  at  any  moment. 
Still  the  men  resolved  to  leave  their  milk,  while  they 
went  back  for  more,  relying  on  Silas  and  the  "  large 
working  party"  to  put  it  on  the  cars,  if  the  train 
chanced  to  pass  before  any  of  them  returned.  So 


256  THE   INGHAM  PAPERS. 

back  they  fared  to  Lovejoy's  for  their  next  relay,  and 
met  John  and  Reuben  working  in  successfully  with 
their  second.  But  no  one  need  have  hurried ;  for,  as, 
trip  after  trip,  they  built  their  pyramid  of  cans  higher 
and  higher,  no  welcome  whistle  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  and  by  ten  o'clock,  when  all  these  cans 
were  in  place  by  the  rail,  the  train  had  not  yet  come. 
John  and  Reuben  then  proposed  to  go  up  into  the 
cut,  and  to  relieve  poor  Silas,  who  had  not  been  heard 
from  since  he  swung  along  so  cheerfully  like  an  "  Ex 
celsior  "  boy  on  his  way  up  the  Alps.  But  they  had 
hardly  started,  when  a  horn  from  the  meadow  recalled 
them,  and,  retracing  their  way,  they  met  a  messenger 
who  had  come  in  to  say  that  a  fresh  team  from  the 
Four  Corners  had  been  reported  at  Lovejoy's,  with  a 
dozen  or  more  men,  who  had  succeeded  in  bringing 
down  nearly  as  far  as  Lovejoy's  mowing-lot  near  a 
hundred  more  cans ;  that  it  was  quite  possible  in  two 
or  three  hours  more  to  bring  these  over  also ;  and, 
although  the  first  train  was  probably  now  close  at 
hand,  it  was  clearly  worth  while  to  place  this  relief  in 
readiness  for  a  second.  So  poor  Silas  was  left  for  the 
moment  to  his  loneliness,  and  Reuben  and  John  re 
turned  again  upon  their  steps.  They  passed  the  house, 
where  they  found  Mrs.  Lovejoy  and  Mrs.  Stacy  at 
work  in  the  shed,  finishing  off  two  more  jumpers,  and 
claiming  congratulation  for  their  skill ;  and  after  a  cup 
of  tea  again,  —  for  no  man  touched  spirit  that  day  nor 
that  night,  —  they  reported  at  the  new  station  by  the 
Mowing-Lot. 


DAILY  BREAD.  257 

And  Silas  Lovejoy,  —  who  had  turned  the  corner 
into  the  Pitman  Cut,  and  so  shut  himself  out  from 
sight  of  the  station  light,  or  his  father's  windows,  or 
the  lanterns  of  the  party  at  the  Pyramid  of  Cans,  — 
Silas  Lovejoy  held  his  watch  there  hour  by  hour,  with 
such  courage  as  the  sense  of  the  advance  gives  boy  or 
man.  He  had  not  neglected  to  take  the  indispensable 
shovel  as  he  came.  In  going  over  the  causeway  he 
had  slipped  off  the  snow-shoes  and  hung  them  on  his 
back.  Then  there  was  heavy  wading  as  he  turned 
into  the  Pitman  Cut,  knee  deep,  middle  deep,  and  he 
laid  his  snow-shoes  on  the  snow,  and  set  the  red  lan 
tern  on  them,  as  he  reconnoitred.  Middle  deep,  neck 
deep,  and  he  fell  forward  on  his  face  into  the  yielding 
mass.  "  This  will  not  do ;  I  must  not  fall  like  that 
often,"  said  Silas  to  himself,  as  he  gained  his  balance 
and  threw  himself  backward  against  the  snow.  Slowly 
he  turned  round,  worked  back  to  the  lantern,  worked 
out  to  the  causeway,  and  fastened  on  the  shoes  again. 
With  their  safer  help  he  easily  skimmed  up  to  Pit 
man's  bridge,  which  he  had  determined  on  for  his  sta 
tion.  He  knew  that  thence  his  lantern  could  be  seen 
for  a  mile,  and  that  yet  there  the  train  might  safely  be 
stopped,  so  near  was  the  open  causeway  which  he  had 
just  traversed.  He  had  no  fear  of  an  up  train  behind 
him. 

So  Silas  walked  back  and  forth,  and  sang,  and 
spouted  ;'  pieces,"  and  mused  on  the  future  of  his  life, 
and  spouted  "pieces"  again,  and  sang  in  the  loneli- 

Q 


258  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

ness.  How  the  time  passed  he  did  not  know.  No 
sound  of  clock,  no  baying  of  dog,  no  plash  of  waterfall, 
broke  that  utter  stillness.  The  wind,  thank  God,  had 
at  last  died  away,  and  Silas  paced  his  beat  in  a  long 
oval  he  made  for  himself,  under  and  beyond  the  bridge, 
with  no  sound  but  his  own  voice  when  he  chose  to 
raise  it.  He  expected,  as  they  all  did,  that  every  mo 
ment  the  whistle  of  the  train,  as  it  swept  into  sight  a 
mile  or  more  away,  would  break  the  silence  ;  so  he 
paced,  and  shouted,  and  sang. 

"  This  is  a  man's  duty,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  they 
would  not  let  me  go  with  the  Fifth  Regiment,  not  as 
a  drummer-boy  ;  but  this  is  duty  such  as  no  drummer- 
boy  of  them  all  is  doing.  Company,  march  !  "  and  he 
"  stepped  forward  smartly  "  with  his  left  foot.  a  Really 
I  am  placed  on  guard  here  quite  as  much  as  if  I  were 
on  picket  in  Virginia."  "Who  goes  there?  Ad 
vance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign."  Not  that 
any  one  did  go  there,  or  could  go  there  ;  but  the  boy's 
fancy  was  ready,  and  so  he  amused  himself  during  the 
first  hours.  Then  he  began  to  wonder  whether  they 
were  hours,  as  they  seemed,  or  whether  this  was  all  a 
wretched  illusion,  —  whether  the  time  passed  slowly  to 
him  because  he  was  nothing  but  a  boy,  and  did  not 
know  how  to  occupy  his  mind.  So  he  resolutely  said 
the  multiplication-table  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
and  from  the  end  to  the  beginning, —  first  to  himself, 
and  again  aloud,  to  make  it  slower.  Then  he  tried 
the  ten  commandments.  "  Thou  shalt  have  none  other 


DAILY  BREAD.  259 

gods   before  me "  ;    easy  to  say  that   beneath   those  \ 
stars  ;  and  he  said  them  again.     "  No,  it  is  no  illusion. 
I  must  have  been  here  hours  long  !  "     Then  he  began 
on  Milton's  hymn  :  — 

"  It  was  the  winter  wild 

While  the  heaven-born  child 
All  meanly  wrapt,  in  the  rude  manger  lies." 

"Winter  wild  indeed,"  said  Silas  aloud;  and  if 
he  had  only  known  it,  at  that  moment  the  sun  be 
neath  his  feet  was  crossing  the  meridian,  midnight 
had  passed  already,  and  Christmas  day  was  born  ! 

"  Only  with  speeches  fair 
She  wooes  the  gentle  air 
To  hide  her  guilty  front  with  innocent  snow." 

"  Innocent,  indeed,"  said  poor  Silas,  still  aloud  ; 
"  much  did  he  know  of  innocent  snow  "  ;  and  vainly 
did  he  try  to  recall  the  other  stanzas  as  he  paced  back 
and  forth,  round  and  round,  and  began  now  to  won 
der  where  his  father  and  the  others  were,  and  if  they 
could  have  come  to  any  misfortune.  Surely,  they 
could  not  have  forgotten  that  he  was  here.  Would 
that  train  never  come  ? 

If  he  were  not  afraid  of  its  coming  at  once,  he  would 
have  run  back  to  the  causeway  to  look  for  their  lights, 
—  and  perhaps  they  had  a  fire.  Why  had  he  not 
brought  an  axe  for  a  fire  ?  "  That  rail-fence  above 
would  have  served  perfectly,  nay,  it  is  not  five  rods 
to  a  load  of  hickory  we  left  the  day  before  Thanksgiv- 


260  THE  EvfGHAM  PAPERS. 

ing.  Surely  one  of  them  might  come  up  to  me  with 
an  axe.  But  maybe  there  is  trouble  below.  They 
might  have  come  with  an  axe,  —  with  an  axe,  —  with 

an  axe,  —  with  an axe "  "  I   am  going  to 

sleep,"  cried  Silas,  —  aloud  again  this  time,  —  as  his 
head  dropped  heavily  on  the  handle  of  the  shovel  he 
was  resting  on  there  in  the  lee  of  the  stone-wall.  "  I 
am  going  to  sleep,  —  that  will  never  do.  Sentinel 
asleep  at  his  post.  Order  out  the  relief.  Blind  his 
eyes.  Kneel,  sir.  Make  ready.  Fire.  That,  sir, 
for  sentinels  asleep."  And  so  Silas  laughed  grimly 
and  began  his  march  again.  Then  he  took  his  shovel 
and  began  a  great  pit  where  he  supposed  the  track 
might  be  beneath  him.  "  Anything  to  keep  warm  and 
to  keep  awake.  But  why  did  they  not  send  up  to 
him  ?  Why  was  he  here  ?  Why  was  he  all  alone  ? 
He  who  had  never  been  alone  before.  Was  he  alone  ? 
Was  there  companionship  in  the  stars,  —  or  in  the 
good  God  who  held  the  stars  ?  Did  the  good  God 
put  me  here  ?  If  "He  put  me  here,  will  He  keep  me 
here  ?  Or  did  He  put  me  here  to  die  !  To  die  in  this 
cold  ?  It  is  cold  ;  it  is  very  cold  !  Is  there  any  good 
in  my  dying  ?  The  train  will  run  down,  and  they  will 
see  a  dead  body  lying  under  the  bridge,  —  black  on 
the  snow,  with  a  red  lantern  by  it.  Then  they  will 
stop.  Shall  I  —  I  will  — just  go  back  to  see  if  the 
lights  are  at  the  bend.  I  will  leave  the  lantern  here 
on  the  edge  of  this  wall !  "  And  so  Silas  turned,  half 
benumbed,  worked  his  way  nearly  out  of  the  gorge, 


DAILY   BREAD.  261 

and  started  as  he  heard,  or  thought  he  heard,  a  baby's 
scream.  "  A  thousand  babies  are  starving,  and  I  am 
afraid  to  stay  here  to  give  them  their  life,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  a  boy  fit  for  a  soldier  !  Order  out  the 
relief!  Drum-head  court-martial!  Prisoner,  hear 
your  sentence  !  Deserter  to  be  shot !  Blindfold,  — 
kneel,  sir !  Fire  !  Good  enough  for  deserters  !  " 
And  so  poor  Silas  worked  back  again  to  the  lantern. 

And  now  he  saw  and  felt  sure  that  Orion  was  bend 
ing  downward,  and  he  knew  that  the  night  must  be 
broken  ;  and,  with  some  new  hope,  throwing  down  the 
shovel  with  which  he  had  been  working,  he  began  his 
soldier  tramp  once  more,  —  as  far  as  soldier  tramp  was 
possible  with  those  trailing  snow-shoes,  —  tried  again 
on  "No  war  nor  battle  sound,"  —  broke  down  on 
"  Cynthia's  seat  "  and  the  music  of  the  spheres,  —  but 
at  last,  —  working  on  "  beams,"  "  long  beams,"  and 
"  that  with  long  beams,"  — he  caught  the  stanzas  he 
was  feeling  for,  and  broke  out  exulting  with, 

"  At  last  surrounds  their  sight, 

A  globe  of  circular  light, 
That  with  long  beams  the  shame-faced  night  arrayed ; 

The  helmed  cherubim 

And  sworded  seraphim 
Are  seen  in  glittering  ranks  —  " 

"  Globe  of  circular  light,  —  am  I  dreaming,  or  have 
they  come  ?  " 

Come  they  had  !  The  globe^of  circular  light  swept 
full  over  the  valley,  and  the  scream  of  the  engine  was 


262  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

welcomed  by  the  freezing  boy  as  if  it  had  been  an 
angel's  whisper  to  him.  Not  unprepared  did  it  find 
him.  The  red  lantern  swung  to  and  fro  in  a  well- 
practised  hand,  and  he  was  in  waiting  on  his  firmest 
spot  as  the  train  slowed  and  the  engine  passed  him. 

"  Do  not  stop  for  me,"  he  cried,  as  he  threw  his 
weight  heavily  on  the  tender  side,  and  the  workmen 
dragged  him  in.  "  Only  run  slow  till  you  are  out  of 
the  ledge  ;  we  have  made  a  milk  station  at  the  cross 
road." 

"  Good  for  you,"  said  the  wondering  fireman,  who 
in  a  moment  understood  the  exigency.  The  heavy 
plough  threw  out  the  snow  steadily  still.  In  ten  sec 
onds  they  were  clear  of  the  ledge,  and  saw  the  fire 
light  shimmering  on  the  great  pyramids  of  milk-cans. 
Slower  and  slower  ran  the  train,  and  by  the  blazing 
fire  stopped,  for  once  because  its  masters  chose  to 
stop.  And  the  working  party  on  the  train  cheered 
lustily  as  they  tumbled  out  of  the  cars,  as  they  appre 
hended  the  situation,  and  were  cheered  by  the  work 
ing  party  from  the  village. 

Two  or  three  cans  of  milk  stood  on  the  embers  of 
the  fire,  that  they  might  be  ready  for  the  men  on  the 
train  with  something  that  was  at  least  warm.  An 
empty  passenger  car  was  opened,  and  the  pyramids  of 
milk-cans  were  hurried  into  it,  forty  men  now  as 
sisting. 

"  You  will  find  Jo  Winter  at  the  Boston  station," 
said  John  Stevens  to  the  "  gentlemanly  conductor  " 


DAILY   BREAD.  263 

of  the  express,  whose  lightning  train  had  thus  become 
a  milk  convoy.  u  Tell  Winter  to  distribute  this  among 
all  the  carts,  that  everybody  may  have  some.  Good 
luck  to  you.  Good  by  !  "  And  the  engines  snorted 
again,  and  John  Stevens  turned  back,  not  so  much  as 
thinking  that  he  had  made  his  Christmas  present  to  a 
starving  town. 

V. 

CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 

The  children  were  around  Robert  Walter's  knees, 
and  each  of  the  two  spelled  out  a  verse  of  the  second 
chapter  of  Luke,  on  Christmas  morning.  And  Rob 
ert  and  Mary  kneeled  with  them,  and  they  said  to 
gether,  U0ur  Father  who  art  in  heaven."  Mary's 
voice  broke  a  little  when  they  came  to  "  daily  bread," 
but  with  the  two,  and  her  husband,  she  continued  to 
the  end,  and  could  say  "  Thine  is  the  power,"  and 
believe  it  too. 

"  Mamma,"  whispered  little  Fanny,  as  she  kissed 
her  mother  after  the  prayer,  "  when  I  said  my  prayers 
up  stairs  last  night,  I  said  c  our  daily  milk,'  and  so  did 
Robert."  This  was  more  than  poor  Mary  could  bear. 
She  kissed  the  child,  and  she  hurried  away. 

For  last  night  at  six  o'clock  it  was  clear  that  the 
milk  was  sour,  and  little  Jamie  had  detected  it  first  of 
all.  Then,  with  every  one  of  the  old  wiles,  they  had 
gone  back  over  the  old  slops,  but  the  child,  with  that 
old  weird  strength,  had  pushed  them  all  away. 


264  THE  INGHAM  PAPERS. 

Christmas  morning  broke,  and  poor  Robert,  as  soon 
as  light  would  serve,  had  gone  to  the  neighbors  all, 
—  their  nearest  intimates  they  had  tried  the  night 
before,  —  and  from  all  had  brought  back  the  same 
reply  ;  one  friend  had  sent  a  wretched  sample,  but  the 
boy  detected  the  taint  and  pushed  it,  untasted,  away. 
Dr.  Morton  had  taken  the  alarm  the  day  before.  He 
was  at  the  house  earlier  than  usual  with  some  con 
densed  milk,  which  his  wife's  stores  had  furnished  ;  but 
that  would  not  answer.  Poor  Jamie  pushed  this  by. 
There  was  some  smoke  or  something,  —  who  should 
say  what  ?  —  it  would  not  do.  The  doctor  could  see 
in  an  instant  how  his  patient  had  fallen  back  in  the 
night.  That  weird,  anxious,  entreating  look,  as  his 
head  lay  back  on  the  little  pillow,  had  all  come  back 
again.  Robert  and  Robert's  friends,  Gaisford  and 
Warren,  then  went  down  to  the  Old  Colony,  to  the 
Worcester,  and  to  the  Hartford  stations.  Perhaps 
their  trains  were  doing  better.  The  door-bell  rang 
yet  ao;ain.  "  Mrs.  Appleton's  love  to  Mrs.  Walter, 
and  perhaps  her  child  will  try  some  fresh  beef-tea." 
As  if  poor  Jamie  did  not  hate  beef-tea  ;  still  Morton 
resolutely  forced  three  spoonfuls  down.  Half  an  hour 
more  and  Mrs.  Dudley's  compliments.  "  Mrs.  Dudley 
heard  that  Mrs.  Walter  was  out  of  milk,  and  took  the 
liberty  to  send  round  some  very  particularly  nice 
Scotch  groats,  which  her  brother  had  just  brought 
from  Edinburgh."  "  Do  your  best  with  it,  Fanny," 
said  poor  Mary  ;  but  she  knew  that  if  Jamie  took  those 


DAILY  BREAD.  265 

Scotch  groats,  it  was  only  because  they  were  a  Christ 
mas  present.  Half  an  hour  more !  Three  more 
spoonfuls  of  beef-tea  after  a  fight.  Door-bell  again. 
Carriage  at  the  door.  "  "Would  Mrs.  Walter  come 
down  and  see  Mrs.  Fitch  ?  It  was  really  very  par 
ticular."  Mary  was  half  dazed,  and  went  down,  she 
did  not  know  why. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Walter,  you  do  not  remember  me," 
said  this  eager  girl,  crossing  the  room  and  taking  her 
by  both  hands. 

"  Why  no,  —  yes,  —  do  I  ?  "  said  Mary,  crying  and 
laughing  together. 

"  Yes,  you  will  remember,  it  was  at  church,  at  the 
baptism.  My  Jennie  and  your  Jamie  were  christened 
the  same  day.  And  now  I  hear,  —  we  all  know  how 
low  he  is,  —  and  perhaps  he  will  share  my  Jennie's 
breakfast.  Dear  Mrs.  Walter,  do  let  me  try." 

Then  Mary  saw  that  the  little  woman's  cloak  and 
hat  were  already  thrown  off,  —  which  had  not  seemed 
strange  to  her  before,  —  and  the  two  passed  quietly  up 
stairs  together  ;  and  Julia  Fitch  bent  gently  over  him, 
and  cooed  to  him,  and  smiled  to  him,  but  could  not 
make  the  poor  child  smile.  And  they  lifted  him  so 
gently  on  the  pillow,  —  but  only  to  hear  him  scream. 
And  she  brought  his  head  gently  to  her  heart,  and 
drew  back  the  little  curtain  that  was  left,  and  offered 
to  him  her  life  ;  but  he  was  frightened,  and  did  not 
know  her,  and  had  forgotten  what  it  was  she  gave  him, 
and  screamed  again  ;  and  so  they  had  to  lay  him  back 

12 


266  THE  INGHAM   PAPERS. 

gently  upon  the  pillow.  And  then,  —  as  Julia  was 
saying  she  would  stay,  —  and  how  they  could  try 
again,  —  and  could  do  this  and  that,  —  then  the  door 
bell  rang  again,  and  Mrs.  Coleman  had  herself  come 
round  with  a  little  white  pitcher,  and  herself  run  up 
stairs  with  it,  and  herself  knocked  at  the  door  I 

The  blockade  was  broken,  and 

The  milk  had  come  ! 


Mary  never  knew  that  it  was  from  Huldah  Stevens's 
milk-can  that  her  boy  drank  in  the  first  drops  of  his 
new  life.  Nor  did  Huldah  know  it.  Nor  did  John 
know  it,  nor  the  paladins  who  fought  that  day  at  his 
side.  Nor  did  Silas  Lovejoy  know  it. 

But  the  good  God  and  all  good  angels  knew  it. 
Why  ask  for  more  ? 

And  you  and  I,  dear  reader,  if  we  ever  forget  that 
always  our  daily  bread  comes  to  us,  because  a  thousand 
brave  men  and  a  thousand  brave  women  are  at  work 
in  the  world,  praying  to  God  and  trying  to  serve  him, 
we  will  not  forget  it  as  we  meet  at  breakfast  on  this 
blessed  Christmas  day  I 


THE   END. 


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